Banking Her: A Billionaire Bad Boys Novella (Book 2.5) (Bad Boy Billionaires) (16 page)

“Nice game tonight, Bailey.” I high-fived Quinn, the Mavericks’ quarterback, on his way back into the locker room.

“Thanks, Dr. Double U.” All of the players called me different things, from Winnie the Pooh to Winslow to Dr. W., but Quinn Bailey was a sweet Southern boy with a thicker accent than most, and the way he said my name always made me laugh. He grinned and filed down the tunnel with the rest of the team.

The Mavericks had handled Phoenix with ease, pulling out another away game win with four touchdowns and one field goal to come out ahead, 31-10. If they kept playing like this, their hopes of getting into the play-offs, and earning themselves a first-round bye, were a very real possibility.

As I passed Wes, who was walking in the opposite direction and back toward the field, he grabbed my wrist and pulled us both to a stop. “Aren’t you coming?” We both looked down at his hand wrapped around me in surprise, and my heart beat a little faster.

Finally meeting his eyes, I tilted my head in confusion. “Coming where?”

“Onto the field… Wait…have you talked to Georgia in the last few hours?”

I shook my head. “I left the hotel early this morning and haven’t had a chance to check my phone. Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s good.”

“Okay…then, what’s going on?”

“Just follow me and you’ll see.” He tugged on my wrist gently and pulled me in the opposite direction.

I didn’t put up a fight and just let him lead me down the tunnel, which was uncomfortably empty as we walked side by side toward the field.
Too
empty. Only the soft footfalls from our shoes filled the quiet. I felt the urge to break the silence, and for some insane reason, found myself blurting out, “I don’t stare at your ass, by the way.”

He peeked out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah, you do. But it’s okay. I don’t mind.”

I tugged my wrist—which he was still holding for some unknown reason—out of his hold and stopped dead in my tracks. “Could you stop that?”

He paused midstep and turned to face me. “Stop what, exactly?”

“Stop saying shit like that to me. This—” I motioned erratically between us with one hand “—can never happen.”

“I’m aware. Believe me, I’m well aware that nothing can happen between us, Winnie,” he responded and stepped closer to me. I stepped back until my back hit the cement wall of the tunnel.

“Good,” I spat.

He closed the distance between us again and braced his hands on either side of my head.

“Good,” he whispered harshly.

“Fine.”

“Okay.” His warm breath brushed my lips, and I had the overpowering sense of déjà vu. We had been here before, in a very similar position, when I invited him into my office under the pretense of looking at Mitchell’s MRI.

“It won’t happen,” I announced weakly, and I wasn’t sure if I was saying it for me or for him.

His eyes stared at my lips. “Nope. Never.”

A pregnant pause filled with uncertainty and tension and want and need and the irresistible urge to give in to what my body was so desperate for took hold of me. All I could do was stare back at him, my gaze alternating between his lips, his eyes, and then repeating that maddening circuit on a loop.

My heart raced with anticipation.

Was he going to kiss me?

Was I going to kiss him?

Before I could find the answers to those questions, the sounds of Georgia and Cassie giggling filtered into the tunnel. The sudden onslaught of noise in the silence startled me, and I wasn’t the only one. Wes backed away—from me, from our almost moment—moving himself to the other side of the space and scrubbing angry hands through his hair. His hazel eyes, however, refused to let go of mine.

I fought to catch my breath as Cassie and Georgia came into view in my peripheral vision. They were smiling and laughing and completely unaware of what they had just managed to stop.

Thank God.

Yeah, keep acting thankful even though you know how much you want that surly, broody, temperamental sex-on-a-stick man.

“Hey, guys! Great fucking game today,” Georgia greeted with a warm smile. The break in the spell between Wes and me felt like the snap of a rubber band.

“What are you guys up to?” I asked in a surprisingly calm voice.

Cassie smirked. “Georgia thinks she can get an autograph from that fuckhot Phoenix running back. What are you guys doing?”

“Well, I was supposed to chat with a few reporters about today’s game, but your idea sounds
way more fun,”
Wes teased. He was serious so often—too often, really—but he looked at those women with genuine affection. He laughed and smiled at their jokes, and I could tell he was pleased to see them, even when he pretended to be put out. There were things about him he concealed so well, and I
refused
to let myself want to know about them.

Georgia and Cassie laughed and then proceeded to head down the tunnel. I followed their lead and made sure I kept my traitorous body a safe distance from Wes. The last thing I needed was close proximity when I’d yet to calm down the erratic pounding inside my chest. One more situation like that with him, and I feared I might end up with a permanent arrhythmia and require a pacemaker.

The second we hit open air and our feet reached the turf, we came face-to-face with Thatch, standing proudly on the field with a giant grin covering his face as Cassie walked toward him.

Their nearest and dearest stood yards away, while the words “Marry me, Cassie Phillips” flashed bright and bold on the Jumbotron.

“What in the fluff is going on, T?” she asked as she looked around the field in surprise.

His grin grew wider as he motioned for her to close the distance between her and him, and he got down on one knee at the goal line.

Stubborn as always, she held her ground and put her hands on her hips. I could feel Wes beside me, breathing and watching and waiting to see what would happen, but he didn’t make a peep. None of us did as Cassie and Thatch faced off.

“Why do I have to come to you?”

Thatch looked fit to be tied, but in the good way. Instead of tied in knots, he wanted to be tied to her, stubborn indignation and all.

Climbing to his feet again, he walked to her, and just when I thought he’d stop, he scooped her up, one arm behind her knees and the other around her back as he carried her back over to the end zone and set her down again. He didn’t drop to his knee this time, instead pulling their joined hands to his chest and holding them there. “I was told I needed to up my proposal game.”

“Is a fourth proposal really necessary?” Kline called out, and I gasped at the unexpected interruption.

Wes’s hand reached out and took hold of mine.

Thatch just smiled and pointed to the scoreboard. All of our eyes followed his direction obediently, and it wasn’t a second before the Fourth Down graphic flashed and swirled on the screen.

“Thanks, Kline,” Thatch yelled, and I knew then that this was all part of the plan. “I’m so glad you asked that.”

Wes barked a chuckle beside me, and I couldn’t stop myself from looking up at his smile. He didn’t look at me, though; his eyes were on his friends.

“Sometimes,” Thatch went on, “it takes four tries, to really get it right.”

“We usually try to avoid fourth downs,” Sean Phillips called out, and I bit my lip to contain my tears. I wasn’t big on crying, but everything was so obviously exactly as it should be. These people were so meant for each other, I was overwhelmed. Wes’s hand tightened around mine.

Thatch nodded again, obviously excited that everyone was doing their part. “I know. Another excellent point, Sean.”

Cassie laughed, and the sound of it echoed through the space and straight on to Thatch’s already smiling face.

“Fourth downs, though, they have something special, don’t you think?”

He didn’t wait for anyone to answer. “They’re the final frontier, the last chance, the time to
make
it happen. So that’s what I’m doing here.”

The big screen flashed the words “Wedding Day,” and that was when I knew. This was happening, right here, right now.

“I’ve decided that I don’t want to wait another second to make you my wife.”

Cassie looked around and noticed her parents, Thatch’s parents, all of us—everyone who meant something to her—for the first time.

“You are the very best thing that has ever happened to me. You’re my best friend, Crazy, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you because you are my life. Marry me right now.”

“As in
here,
right now?”

He nodded.

“On a football field?”

He nodded again.

“Are you crazy?”

“I think you’re rubbing off on me,” he teased.

He didn’t have to ask her again because she was nodding her head yes and then tossing her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. She whispered something into his ear, and he leaned back to meet her eyes. “I love you too. Now,” he said as he stood up with her still in his arms, “Let’s go get hitched.”

Thatch carried her across the field toward the small group of their smiling family and friends standing on the fifty-yard line. Wes dragged me to follow, since we hadn’t even made it out of the edge of the tunnel before everything had started to go down.

As they stood, before their loved ones and the minister who was there to make it all official, I couldn’t quell the surge of emotion. I was happy for her, so very happy for her, and I was finding that, deep down, I wanted to experience that kind of love. Overwhelmed, I swiped a few tears from my cheeks, and to my surprise, Wes smiled gently in my direction as he untangled his hand from mine and discreetly handed me a small handkerchief.

Who still carries a handkerchief?

“Thanks,” I whispered, but his hand didn’t come back.

I wished I didn’t miss it.

He nodded and went back to watching the bride and groom say their vows.

I stared at him for a long moment, memorizing the soft expression on his face as he witnessed one of his best friends marry the woman of his dreams.

Maybe Wes Lancaster had a heart buried beneath that steely, unwavering exterior after all?

Maybe he wasn’t as brooding and surly as I originally thought?

Maybe I wanted to peel away those layers and get to know him?

Wait. No. I didn’t want that.

Yes, you do.

Fuck.

I quickly averted my eyes from him and focused on Cassie and Thatch. He was smiling down at her as she finished her vows.

“I now pro—” The minister started to announce, but she interrupted him before he could finish.

“Oh, fluff. Wait.” She held a finger in the minister’s direction. “Just one more thing,” she said and turned her attention back to Thatch. “I got the results back for the blood test.”

She glanced at everyone in attendance and added, “Not
that
kind of blood test, you weirdos. It was a test to make sure the baby is healthy, and the baby is very healthy, but it also detected the sex.” Her eyes met Thatch’s again, and she smiled.

“You know what we’re having?” he asked in surprise.

She nodded and, with her heart in her eyes, said, “A boy.”

His eyes shone with liquid emotion. “We’re having a boy?”

Cassie’s expression mimicked his as a few tears spilled down her cheeks. “We’re having a boy, honey.”

Thatch’s face morphed into the biggest smile I’d ever seen as he wrapped Cassie up in his arms and pressed his lips to hers without delay.

“I now pronounce these two husband and wife,” the minister declared on a soft laugh. “You may continue kissing your bride.”

Everyone in attendance clapped their hands and exclaimed their congratulations, while Thatch and Cassie stayed oblivious to the world and continued to kiss the hell out of each other.

I wondered if I’d ever have that kind of happy ending.

My hands tingled as my blood pumped faster.

I wanted it.

Traitorously, without permission, my gaze found Wes’s and stayed there.

God, I want it.

The End

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Wes and Winnie are coming for you in
Scoring the Billionaire
on October 25
th
, 2016.

Things are about to get heated. And complicated.

But by God, these two know how to bring it.

Spoiler alert: Wes’s penis is in this book. Not just the tip. His
whole
penis. And sometimes, his penis doesn’t wear pants.

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