The idea of mud wrestling with him sends a charge straight through my core, and I wiggle out of his embrace, turning so I can put my arms around his neck.
“If I’d known what you had in mind, I might not have run so fast.” He backs me against the post and leans down to cover my mouth with his.
Lips part, and our tongues slide together in a kiss that lights my entire body on fire. It’s slow and gentle, pulling my lips with his and surrounding me with his sexy man scent. Lifting his chin, he looks down at me, and I want to climb him like a tree.
“As much as I want to keep going with this, I’ve got to take care of the horses, and I need to shower if I’m going with you to the game.”
“We could share a shower.” His hot voice has my insides dripping.
“No,” I shake my head. “I have a surprise for you.” That makes him frown, and I slide up to kiss his lips again. “Maybe after the game you can take me to Makeout Point?”
He lowers his head, running his nose along the side of my hair and sending chills skating down my arms. “Let’s make that a definitely after the game.”
32
Hutch
“Hit it, Pepper, you got this!” I shout from the stands as our favorite shortstop enters the batter’s box.
Blake gives my hand a squeeze before releasing it to clap. She’s outfitted in a red, adult-sized Snow Cones jersey with a white, pleated miniskirt, and her hair is styled in two side ponytails at her shoulders with red and white ribbons.
“Freeze ‘em out, Snow Cones!” she yells, and I lean closer.
“Where did you get this outfit?”
“Carmen helped me. I’m a cheerleader.” She dips her chin, and makes a little sexy, pouty mouth. “You like my skirt?”
Shit. My dick twitches in my jeans. “I like all of it. You’re hot enough to melt a snow cone.”
That makes her laugh, and I have to focus on the game and not what I plan to do to this naughty cheerleader at Makeout Point later.
Carmen chants from her other side. “We want a catcher, not a belly scratcher!”
“We want a pitcher, not a belly itcher!” Blake joins, and I shake my head.
“I can’t decide if Carmen’s a good or bad influence on you.”
“We’re supporting our team!” she argues adorably.
Pepper is all over the field as usual, pausing periodically to wave or do a little dance when she makes a triple play. Hana is inside the gate taking photos, and after the ones she showed me from last week, she might become the official team photographer. She’s really damn good.
It’s a fast game, and the Snow Cones pull out a squeaker win at 6-5 over the Sea Turtles. The players line up to shake hands, and we head to our favorite bakery for celebratory donuts and chocolate milk.
Hana dances through the group as usual, taking pictures of the pigtailed players holding oversized, sprinkled donuts in front of their eyes and striking silly poses.
Scar took off after the win, telling me he’d be away for a few days. Dirk is helping him try to locate Ivan X, working off the theory he could be the Ivanov in Hugh’s ledger.
Last I checked, they hadn’t established a definite link, but it’s a logical place to start. They both insist I stay out of it and take a break, which I’m all too happy to do–for a little while.
I want to spend time with Blake and see if there might be the potential for something more between us besides “hired protector,” or even “hated teenage nemesis who ruined her life.” That last one makes me cringe, but I’d do it again in a heartbeat. She was not safe in that house, and it was the only way I could have any peace of mind.
But when I watch her sitting with Pepper, sharing sprinkled donuts, it hits me our situation might be more complicated than I’d considered.
Up until now, I’d always thought of my situation with my sister’s child as a team effort between Lurlene, Dirk, and me. We all share responsibilities and pinch-hit as needed. The truth is, Pepper is legally mine.
Blake’s only twenty-four years old. She’s a society girl and probably plans to pursue a career. What reason do I have to think she’d want to be part of an instant family, especially one that includes an eleven-year-old going on thirty?
She looks up at me and smiles. Sitting there in a Snow Cones jersey with her pretty lips painted red and her dark hair tied with red and white ribbons, I wonder what she might say to this dramatic change in her lifestyle.
“What’s got you so worried, big guy?” Carmen sidles up to me, and I straighten quickly.
“No worries. Looks like the girls might be headed to the state championships this year.”
“Pepper’s a pistol. She’s going to carry this team all the way.” Carmen takes a sip from her mug. “But that’s not what’s on your mind, I can tell.”
“I just came off a pretty complex case, Carmen.” My tone is dismissive, intended to shut down this line of questioning.
“Nope.” She looks at the table where Pepper and Blake have traded donut halves. “You’re worried about that right there.”
Shifting my stance, I’m ready to tell the town gossip to keep her nose out of my business, instead I opt for diplomacy. “It’s a school night. I’m only worried about getting Pepper home in time to get a good night’s sleep before the first bell.”
I start to move away when she catches my arm. “Listen to me.” She levels her hazel eyes on mine. “No woman spends that much time with a child unless she likes it. You’ve got nothing to worry about with Blake. She’s yours. Now put a ring on it before it’s too late.”
With that she walks past me to where Hana is taking pictures of the outfielders pretending to catch fly-ball donuts with the help of their teammates.
“Hold it right there!” Hana directs. “A little higher. I can still see your fingers. Move them to the back a little more.”
My thoughts are a jumble with all that’s happened in the last twenty-four hours, but Carmen’s words feel right. When I look again, Pepper leans forward to throw her arms around Blake’s neck, and Blake wraps her arms around the little girl, pressing her lips together in a happy smile.
Hell, leave it to the town gossip to see what’s right in my face.
The girls chatter all the way back to the house. Hana has her camera, and she’s in the backseat with Pepper, showing her the pictures she took. Pepper squeals and bounces in her seat, and I’m sure she’s had way too much sugar–even if she did burn a million calories on the field. She’s headed for a crash. Blake is turned in the front seat as if she doesn’t want to miss a thing.
“And when you went down in that squat pose like that to stop the line-drive.” Hana holds her camera over to my niece. “Holy crap. What do you call that pose?”
Pepper’s eyes are wide. “I don’t know. I just knew I had to stop that ball, or the game was over.”
“It was an amazing play,” Blake says, and my eyes fall to her silky thighs exposed in the pale light of the dash.
Talk about amazing, Blake in that cheerleader skirt is pretty fucking amazing. I’ve been on edge all night.