Read The Deal with Love (One on One) Online

Authors: Jamie Wesley

Tags: #one-night stand, #fling, #office romance, #own voices, #Lovestruck, #POC, #contemporary romance, #coworkers, #sport, #NBA, #sports romance, #category, #Romance, #diverse, #basketball

The Deal with Love (One on One) (13 page)

BOOK: The Deal with Love (One on One)
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Nerves twisting in her stomach, she tried again. “Hopefully, we make it work by making a return trip to the Land of Orgasms after I get a drink of water.”

This time, he did laugh. Her heart skipped a beat at the carefree sound. Except no, her heart wasn’t up for grabs.

He crossed the room, stopping directly in front of her. “For how long?”

Good question. They were compatible sexually, spectacularly so. She’d let him spank her, after all. She could still feel the sweet sting of his hand on her butt that morphed into a heated rush of pleasure between her legs. Could still see the hungry expression on his face. They’d both enjoyed themselves. Still, that didn’t mean they had a future together. She wasn’t looking for anything serious anyway, right? Right. Her career needed to come first.

Then again, it was time to admit the attraction between them wasn’t going to go away after a couple of encounters, no matter how much she’d wanted that to be the case. She swallowed. “As long as we want.”

“You’re not going to kick me out?”

Her eyebrows rose. “After what we just did?” And how he’d made her feel? “That would be a no.”

“In that case, I believe we can schedule some more visits to the Land of Orgasms.”

Her desire for water forgotten, she satisfied another need. The need to touch him. His wide shoulders were wonderful, the hair on his chest so sexy and inviting. The muscles underneath hard. “Soon hopefully?”

“Real soon.”

“Now?”

His eyebrows lifted. “Greedy?”

“Yes.”

He laughed. She joined in. He surprised her by scooping her up in his arms and striding out of the kitchen. She laughed harder and drew his head down for a kiss. Yes, being with Christian was what she wanted most at the moment. Tomorrow would come soon enough. Tonight was all about them.

Chapter Thirteen

Cradling a cup of coffee, lured by strange noises—or strange to her, at least—Elise stepped outside Christian’s front door. Last night, he’d enticed her to stop working on a Saturday night and come to his house with promises of food. And great sex. She’d hesitated about two-tenths of a second before agreeing. She’d woken up this morning to an empty bed. Then, she’d heard the noises. She’d rolled out of bed to investigate, only stopping for a moment in his kitchen, unable to resist the aroma of the coffee Christian had made.

She followed the sounds of clanking to the open garage door and came up short. She pressed the mug to her mouth to keep a whimper from spilling out.

Christian was bent over the hood of a red car—some classic convertible. The clanking came courtesy of a tool he was using to do something to the car’s innards. But that’s not what caused a knot of awareness to curl in her stomach. No, that honor went to Christian’s physique. His back, specifically, because the man wasn’t wearing a shirt. There was a God. Back muscles glistened with sweat and moved together in a seamless rhythm. His back tapered down to a trim waist.

And his butt.

She really needed to write a sonnet dedicated to it. Researching the structure of a sonnet had to move to the top of her to-do list because nothing less would do to honor it. Round, firm. Muscled. A memory waylaid her—of her clutching his butt as he moved inside her. She bit her lip as he leaned farther under the hood, causing his shorts to contour even more to the body part in question.

“Shit.”

Christian’s muttered expletive snapped her out of her wonderful thoughts. She stepped closer. “What’s wrong?”

He whirled around, his lips curving into a welcoming smile. “Hey, I didn’t hear you come outside.”

“Yeah, I know. You were distracted.” She gestured toward the vehicle with the mug. “Nice car.”

“Thanks. It’s a 1957 Chevy. I’m restoring it.”

Her eyes rounded. “Wow, you are? That’s so cool.” And hot as hell.

He grabbed a towel from a workbench and wiped his hands. “Thanks. I woke up this morning thinking I’d figured out why the radiator was giving me trouble. You were sleeping, and I didn’t want to disturb you.”

She took a sip of coffee. “I’m going to take a stab in the dark here, but it sounds like your solution isn’t working.”

He made a face. “It’s not, but it will.”

She glanced around. This wasn’t some run-of-the-mill garage. It was big enough to hold three cars—his Nissan, the car she was used to seeing him in, the Chevy he was working on, and an old Mustang. Shelves and work benches lined one wall. Tools lined the other two walls. It was all very neat and organized. Professional. “So, how often do you do this?”

He shrugged. “Whenever I can. I needed to find something to do to relax. I’d always liked tinkering and figuring things out with cars, so here I am.”

“How many cars have you restored?”

“Ten so far.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Wow. Where are they?”

“I sell them when I’m done.”

“Is it hard to let them go?”

“A little bit, but it gets easier each time. I enjoy them for a week or two when I finish and then sell. The fun for me is in the process of returning them to their former glory. Then it’s on to the next challenge.” He pointed to the Mustang. “That was the first one I restored, so it holds a special place in my heart. I’ll never get rid of Pam.”

“Pam? You named your car Pam?”

“What? Doesn’t she look like a Pam to you?”

Elise held up a hand. “Yes, of course. Sorry, I was thinking it looked more like a Harry. My bad.”

“You’re forgiven.” He dropped a kiss on her mouth.

She pressed a hand to his chest and stepped back. “Wait. You said you needed something to do to relax. Why?” He didn’t reply right away. “Christian?”

“I had a heart attack.”


What?
When?
You’re too young to have a heart attack.”

His lips twisted. “Not if you work eighty hours a week and don’t take care of yourself. I couldn’t acknowledge or see what my body was trying to tell me until it was almost too late. The heart attack was the wake-up call I needed. I quit my job.”

“Wow. I didn’t realize being a filmmaker was that intense.”

“’I was so determined to make it. I was on the fast track to landing a spot with a major studio, or so everyone said. I became obsessed with that goal and forgot why I went into filmmaking in the first place—to help people.”

She nodded. “Is that why you decided to become a teacher?”

“After the heart attack, I gave myself a good talking-to. I knew I wanted to go back into filmmaking on my own terms, and I also knew I wanted to give back some of that joy my teachers had given me growing up, so it made sense. I work on documentaries in the summer and teach during the school year. I love it. I can be passionate about both without killing myself trying to make a buck.”

“But doesn’t teaching and producing documentaries take a lot of time?”

He nodded as though he’d been anticipating the question. “They do, and yes doing both can be stressful, but I don’t place the unreasonable demands on myself that I did when I was in California. I’m not trying to advance my career at the expense of everything else. I’m teaching kids. I’m working on projects that I believe in. I have time to enjoy life.”

“You found a higher purpose.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly it.” He wrapped an arm her waist and nibbled the shell of her ear. “Let’s go inside. Now that you’re awake, we can have breakfast. And maybe something else.”

“I could get behind that.” She pressed her hand to his chest again. One, to hold him back. Two, because she couldn’t help herself. His hot skin warmed her hand. She stared at all that delightful bared skin. “Wait. If we go back inside, does that mean you’re going to put on a shirt?”

“Yes. I’m in the mood for bacon, and getting burned by grease isn’t something I look forward to.”

“Oh.” She took the opportunity to grope his truly outrageous abs. They flexed under her seeking hands. “Maybe we should stay out here then.”

He caught her hands. “What about a compromise? I’ll take it off while we eat.”

Her lips lifted. “Deal.”


“Hey, you ready to eat?” Christian asked, holding two plates.

Elise looked up from her phone. “Yeah, in a second. Let me finish this email.” Spending time with Christian was amazing but time-consuming. She finished typing and pressed send. “Okay, I’m ready.”

She sat at the table while he placed a plate in front of her. “This smells and looks amazing. Thank you. ” He hadn’t stopped at bacon. He’d added French toast and eggs to the menu.

“Thanks. I try. I was hoping the smells would lure you from your phone.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Sorry about that. I needed to respond to an agent about one of his players. He wanted to know if we’re interested.”

“What did you tell him?”

“Yes. At the right price, of course. But enough work for now. Let’s eat.”

He took his place at the table across from her.

Elise waved her index finger. “Nuh-uh. You promised.”

He didn’t move. She raised her eyebrows.

“Fine.” He whipped the T-shirt over his head.

After unabashedly ogling him and all those glorious flexing muscles, she gave him a thumbs-up. “Now, we’re ready to eat.”

“I’ll exact my revenge later.”

She wiggled her eyebrows. “I can’t wait. But we should eat first. I need my energy.”

His eyes darkened. “Yes, you do.”

She tucked into her food. Or she tried to. Her phone kept buzzing with updates from her assistant. From reporters wanting an update on the Stampede’s free agency plans. Wanting to enjoy her time with Christian, she tried to keep her glances at the phone to a minimum. Then a name popped up she couldn’t ignore. “Excuse me.”

She grabbed her phone and pushed away from the table. She moved into Christian’s living room and answered the call. “Elise Templeton here.” She listened to the caller for a few seconds. “Okay. That sounds good. We look forward to it.” She was proud of herself. She sounded calm. In control. Inside, she was doing a high kick the Stampede dancers would be proud of.

She ended the call and raced back to the kitchen. “You won’t believe this. That was Drew Newsome’s agent. Drew thinks he wants another visit, but first he wanted to schedule a video chat for tomorrow.”

He frowned. “What time tomorrow?”

“Eleven.”

The care he took setting his fork down told its own story. “You’re supposed to speak at my school at eleven tomorrow.”

“Oh, right.” She grimaced. Crap. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

He didn’t respond right away. She held her breath, waiting. His face went blank. She didn’t know what he was thinking. No, that wasn’t true. She’d gotten to know him well. When his face went blank, that’s when he was at his most upset. It was the same look he wore every time Mack came into the room. “Say something. I feel awful. I know this is important to you. I’m so sorry. If I could avoid canceling, I would.”

“But you can’t. Your career comes first. I know that. There’s no need to apologize.” He said it all flatly. Matter-of-factly.

“I can try to get my assistant to come if you’d like.”

“That won’t be necessary. I’m sure she’s as busy as you are trying to impress the boss and needs to be with you.”

Each barb stabbed her heart. “I said I was sorry, and I am. If you’re angry with me, say so.”

He looked up at her then. “I’m not angry. I’m disappointed. I shouldn’t be, though. You’ve been clear all along that work is the most important part of your life, and this thing between us is temporary, so I’ll respect that. Our priorities are too different for this to become more than a friendship with benefits, anyway.”

Damn. Direct hit to her heart that hurt more than she’d ever have imagined. She didn’t let people in. Not since her mom had died anyway. Yet he’d effortlessly wiggled past her defenses, which should have scared her. It did scare her, but she didn’t want whatever was happening between them to end. Not yet. She didn’t want to disappoint him, but she couldn’t turn down this opportunity. It was too huge. She bit her lip. “I’m sorry I have to cancel. I’m sorry I’m not who you want me to be. That doesn’t make me a bad person.”

She waited for him to say something. To stop her. He did neither. Her shoulders stiff, she walked out of the room to gather her things. This was just the reminder she needed. She wouldn’t fit into his life on a regular basis. Whatever was going on between them was a fun interlude. Just as he’d said.


Christian stepped into the auditorium for the career day panel and pushed his lips into a smile. His students didn’t deserve his black mood. But still he couldn’t help to think the day wasn’t complete because Elise wasn’t there.

She hadn’t meant to hurt him. She had to do her job. The job that meant so much to her. The one she’d worked so hard for. He needed to get over his hurt feelings. Which he’d known yesterday. Still, he’d let her walk out without saying anything.

Spending nights in his bed alone no longer appealed. No longer felt right. He’d done more staring at his ceiling last night than actually sleeping. Holding his phone in his hand, resisting the urge to call her, if only to hear the sound of her voice. But pride hadn’t let him. So fucking stupid.

Admitting the problem was the first step in recovery, right?

But none of that could be helped at the moment. Elise was doing her job, and he needed to do his. He’d call her later. Time to get this show on the road.

He walked on stage, past the table with microphones where the panel participants sat, stepped up to the moderator’s podium, and looked out at his students. Many of them were on their phones because they were teenagers and didn’t know any other existence. But that was okay. They’d told him they were excited. That’s why he loved this job. Getting to know them and getting the chance to help them reach their goals and attain their dreams. He grasped the edges of the podium between his hands and leaned into the microphone.

Before he could call for the attention of his students, the door creaked open. He swung his gaze to his left. Who was that? All his students and panelists were here. His mouth dropped open when Elise walked in. She met his eyes right away, that small smile, the one he understood that hinted at her vulnerability, played across her lips. She turned to the room’s other occupants, who were all staring at her. “Sorry, I’m late guys, but I hope you have one more spot for me.”

Christian sprang into action. As did one of the panelists, his buddy Kevin, a Dallas firefighter, who always went directly into flirt mode as soon as a pretty woman came into view. Kevin grabbed a chair offstage. “Sit next to me. Please.”

Kevin’s eagerness was clear for everyone to hear if the laughter from his students was any indication.

What was she doing here? Had Drew canceled the meeting? Was that the only reason she was here? Did it matter? No, it didn’t. She was here, and he was excited to see her. So were his students, judging by the excited murmur in the audience. They’d been disappointed when he’d told them she couldn’t make it because of an unexpected conflict.

He returned to the podium. “In case you don’t know who our last arrival is, let me introduce you to Elise Templeton, the newest general manager of the Dallas Stampede. Welcome, Elise. She’ll be joining our other panelists, who are all here to discuss their careers and answer any questions you have. I’ll let them introduce themselves, and then we’ll open it up for questions.”

The hour went quickly with his students eager to ask questions.

“Did you always want to work in sports?” Tasha, a student who excelled at video editing, asked. “What is it like working for the Stampede?”

“Working for the Stampede was always my dream,” Elise said. “I grew up in Dallas. I love basketball. I love all sports, really. I was working for the Phoenix Suns when my father bought the Stampede, and I was beyond ecstatic to join my hometown team. Every morning I wake up excited to see what the day holds, and that’s what you should want when it comes to your career. Life is too short to hate going to work every day.”

BOOK: The Deal with Love (One on One)
13.85Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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