Playing for Keeps (22 page)

I’d be trying to get at whatever and he’d come up behind me, shirtless, put his hand on my abdomen right under my breasts, and stretch behind me to get it. He’d press against my back and, as he reached, his thumb would accidentally brush my nipple. I’d gasp and we’d both freeze because it hadn’t occurred to either of us to have crazy sex right against the shelves there until that moment. Then he’d drop whatever jar he’d gotten down for me and slip his hand into my pants and under my panties—

“I’ll need to stop by my apartment and take a shower first,” he said.

I blinked. “What?” What did that have to do with ravaging me?

He paused. When he spoke, his voice was low and raspy—just the way it got when I touched him intimately. “I want to know whatever it is you’re thinking. Later. See you tonight.” He hung up.

I sat back and fanned myself.

I fidgeted restless for half an hour before I admitted I needed an outlet for the excess energy strumming through my blood. “Let’s go for a walk, George.”

He barked, jumped to his feet, and raced to the door to wait for me.

Grabbing his leash, I followed him outside. George ran to the end of the block, looking right and then left as if trying to decide which way to go.

“Go right, George. Let’s go to the park.”

He barked once and took off.

“Don’t get too far in front of me.” I sprinted after him.

After about a block we settled into a nice jog. By the time we got to the little neighborhood park, I was sweating. George panted happily, running circles around me. He found a discarded tennis ball and we played catch for a little bit before I went to swing.

Throwing my head back, I tried to reach the sky like I did when I was little. The sensation of flying wasn’t quite the same as it was twenty years ago but it still felt liberating.

Like a cheering section, George barked encouragement to me from the sidelines. I jumped off and landed heavily in the sand. He barked and bounded clumsily through the sand to my side.

I laughed at the worried expression on his face as he peered down at me. “I’m fine.”

His look was somewhat reproachful. I rubbed him under his tummy and behind his ears to try to make it up to him. Then I got up and brushed the sand off my butt. “Let’s go back.”

He barked but didn’t move.

“Come on. I have work to do.”

He barked again and dug his heels in.

I sighed. “Okay. I’m sweaty anyway. We’ll get our stuff and just go home.”

He barked his acquiescence and trotted ahead of me.

Shaking my head as a followed, I wondered if Nell had to bargain with him all the time.

I turned the sprinkler in the backyard on for George and went upstairs to my own shower. I got out, patted myself dry, and got into a pair of pajama bottoms and a tank top. I redid my ponytail and went downstairs.

No one was home and there were no notes telling me whether or not they’d be home.

Typical.

I went into the living room to do a little superficial straightening. I hadn’t cleaned in weeks. It was an experiment. I wanted to see how bad the house would get before Daddy or Chloe did something about it. At the rate we were going, I didn’t think that day was going to come. They were never home to notice.

Chloe, I understood. She was a college student. She had classes and study groups and social engagements. But Daddy—there was no excuse for him. He was supposed to be a lonely widower with no life except for his kung fu students.

“A lonely widower who can’t pick up his own newspapers.” I gathered the random sheets, folded them into a pile, and took them to the recycling bin.

Fortunately, the kitchen was orderly. There’s nothing that gets me down more than having to clean up before cooking dinner. I opened the fridge and started pulling out ingredients for dinner.

Nell going to Paris had another perk: we were all off the health kick. For the past week, we’d all been happily gorging ourselves on meat, potatoes, and assorted junk food.

Tonight I was going to make shepherd’s pie, a meat stew baked with mashed potatoes on top. It was one of Daddy’s favorite dishes, but I was only really making it because it was easy and the leftovers meant I wouldn’t have to cook for a couple days.

By the time Riley arrived, the casserole was in the oven, I’d fed George, and I’d lost at solitaire twice.

My first clue that Riley arrived was George’s incessant barking followed by some not so well muffled oaths from Riley.

The back door opened and Riley stepped through, brushing off the front of his suit. “I think he thought I was hiding Nell inside my coat.”

I smiled. “He misses her.”

“At least he didn’t knock me over.”

“Give him another week.” George was growing at an alarming rate. I was certain he was part Irish wolfhound.

Riley dropped a kiss on my forehead before going to the refrigerator and pulling out a Coke. At my raise eyebrow, he shot me a sheepish grin and saluted me with the can. “Nell hasn’t been around.”

Ah—while the cat’s away… Not that I could blame him. I’d bought a twelve pack of soda the day she left.

“These the invitations?” He nudged the bag I’d set on the table.

“Yeah. I thought we’d have dinner before we started though.”

“However you want to play it.” He sat down and loosened his tie. Obviously he’d come here straight from work. “Tell me you made one of your delicious meals.”

“Shepherd’s pie.”

“There is a God,” he said fervently.

According to Nell, his cooking skills rated right up there with Chloe’s. At least Nell was a decent cook. Someone should be, in a relationship. That, or be rich enough to hire a cook.

I was lucky. Pete not only cooked but, more importantly, he liked cooking. I loved it when he made dinner for me. He’d lift me onto the counter and feed me tidbits while I watched him whip together amazing things. I loved the way his forehead crinkled in thought and the intensity with which he created. It was the same intensity with which he did everything.

Checking the time, I wondered when he’d be over. “Are you hungry? Pete’s supposed to join us but I doubt he’d want us to hold dinner for him if we’re hungry.”

“Let’s eat.”

Pete arrived as Riley was cleaning up after our dinner. It surprised me when suddenly he opened the door and stood in the frame. I’d expected George to bark his head off.

Pete must have read my confusion because he said, “George and I have an agreement.” He stepped in and closed the door behind him. “It’s a man thing.”

I snorted.

Riley looked up, suds covering him all the way up his forearms. “I’m a man. Can you let me in on it?”

“Sure thing.” Pete grinned and clapped his friend on the shoulder before he walked over to me.

He tipped my head back and kissed me, slow and long so I had to work to catch my breath after he let me go.

My face burned as I glanced nervously at Riley. Fortunately, his back was to us and he was engrossed in the dishes.

I gave Pete a look.

He grinned crookedly, a devilish light in his eyes, and bent down toward me again.

I jumped up. “You must be famished. I’ll get you some dinner.”

He chuckled but I ignored it. We had wedding shower invites that needed to get out. No matter how desperately my body was craving him. I set down his dinner in front of him and got him a beer without asking before I took my place next to him.

Riley sat down across from us. “Haven’t seen you in ages, buddy. How’s work?”

“Work’s work.” Pete shoveled a big bite into his mouth.

“When are you going to stop dicking around and do something with your life?”

Yeah—when, Pete? I rested my chin in my hand and waited for the answer.

The dark look he gave Riley was answer enough.

I just didn’t get it. He had so much talent and potential. Why couldn’t he see that? He’d be so much happier making his furniture.

I imagined having a house—my own house—filled with furniture that Pete made. Warm, gleaming wood surfaces. I knew each piece would be made with love. I could see him coming home and laying me down on the table he constructed at the perfect height to—

“Grace?”

I blinked. They frowned at me, which in turn made me frown. “What?”

Riley smiled. “We’ve only called you three times. Where were you?”

One glance at the knowing grin on Pete’s face told me he knew exactly where I was. “Just thinking.”

“What about? You were thinking hard.”

“I was just thinking of”—I felt Pete’s hand slide up my thigh and run along the crease where my leg met my hips—“wienies.”

“Wienies?” Riley frowned. “Are you still hungry?”

Was I ever. “Uh, no. I was thinking about the wedding reception. Maybe we should have the caterer server some.”

Pete chuckled and went back to eating. Though his hand stayed where it was.

“Wienies?” Riley asked again.

“What’s wrong with wienies?” I could be philosophical with the best of them.

Riley’s face scrunched. Obviously, he was deep in thought. “I guess nothing.”

“Exactly. They’d add a certain something to the event, don’t you think?”

“Sure.” My sister’s fiancé said it like he was humoring a mental patient.

Pete, wisely, didn’t say a word.

“Maybe we should start filling out the invites.” I reached across the table to pull the plastic bag toward me.

Riley rubbed his hands together. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Earlier, I’d printed out the list of women Nell wanted to invite to her shower. That was the first thing I pulled from the bag. Then I took out two of the four boxes I’d bought, one for Riley and one for me. He took one and studied it while I sorted through the list.

“Gracie?”

I glanced up. Riley had opened a box and held one of the blank invitations in his hand.

Did I mention how cute they were? They had a pretty little dress on the front. Simple with a splash of color—no words or anything

Only he was frowning.

Maybe he didn’t like the little dress? I thought it was like something Nell would wear. “What’s wrong?”

“These invitations—” He paused as if trying to pick his words carefully. “Did you choose them?”

“Yeah.” Well, they
were
a little cutesy. You couldn’t expect a guy to fall in love with them.

“Did you mean to get baby shower notices?”

“They’re bridal shower invites, Riley.” I resisted asking him when the last time it was he had his eyes checked out. He did slave over small print all day, after all.

“No, Gracie. These are baby shower invitations.” He handed one over. “Unless there’s a little surprise on its way that no one told me about, I think you bought the wrong thing.”

I frowned at the card. There was the little dress on the front. I opened it up, and sure enough it said “Celebrate the Coming of a Little Girl.”

Groaning, I dropped it and banged my head against the table.

Pete picked it up. A moment later I heard his chuckle. “You could say you were thinking about the wedding night.”

I covered my head with my arms.

“It’s not so bad, Gracie.”

I glanced up at Riley. He looked more amused than I thought was acceptable and my eyes let him know that.

He forcibly stifled his amusement. “It’s not the end of the world. We can just go exchange them tomorrow.”

I groaned again.

“Or not,” Riley amended quickly.

The sign on the sale table flashed in my mind. “They were on sale. No exchanges or returns.”

Pete massaged my neck, trying to soothe me. “I think you should just use these. Get it done and out. Don’t worry about it.”

“But it’s not right.” Mom would have
so
frowned on this.

“Who says?” He shrugged. “Pretend it’s a joke.”

“It is kind of funny, Gracie.”

I looked at Riley. I looked at Pete. I looked at the boxes of invitations on the table. “I should just go buy new ones.”

Riley shook his head. “That’s a waste of money, and I thought we had to get these out right away.”

“We do.” It came out more like a desperate wail than I wanted it to.

But the shower was supposed to happen in two weeks—two weeks before the wedding. I couldn’t move it to the weekend after because that’s when the bachelorette party was scheduled. I had to get them out as soon as possible.

Would it matter if the invitations arrived late?

I envisioned me, Nell, and Chloe sitting around, all alone with enough food for fifty people.

Eek.

So I nodded. “Okay. Let’s just do it and get them out.”

I glanced up at the ceiling. Mom, just look away on this one, okay?

I consoled myself with the fact that she’d applaud me for not spending more money than necessary. Mom knew how to stretch a dollar like no one’s business.

And—okay, I admit it—it kind of was funny. Nell would get a kick out of it.

We divided the list and got to it. In minutes Riley had a stack of filled out, addressed cards in front of him.

I had to concentrate on not making any typos. It was difficult because of Pete. He didn’t overtly harass me. In fact, all he did was rinse his plate, put it in the washer, and sit down next to me again. But when he sat down, he put his arm behind me and toyed with my hair. I scowled at him, but he just grinned.

Suddenly Pete’s warm hand was caressing my shoulder, a finger slipping under the strap of my tank top and rubbing back and forth. The roughness of his callused finger sent shivers up and down my spine.

Ignoring the way my nipples perked right up, I mentally spelled out the name I was trying to write. A-L-I-C—

Pete’s hand lifted, leaving me feeling cold and bereft for a second before he put it back on my leg. Way inside and high enough that I felt its heat on my private red light area.

Gulp.

I wanted to squirm but I was afraid any movement would make his fingers brush me intimately, and I didn’t think I could take it. One touch and I’d push him onto the table, Riley be damned.

At least the invitation disaster didn’t seem like such a big deal anymore. I looked down at the one I was filling out. “Crap.”