Page 28

After a quick stop at a local drugstore, I picked up the food, replaying the day in my mind as I drove home. The game had been everything I’d wanted, and I was still riding the high from our win.

It was kissing Jane that had me buzzing, though. I knew what I had to do to fulfill my baseball goals: get healthy, work hard, play hard. Jane was a different kind of thrill.

After Evie had left me, I’d buried my anger and bitterness in the work necessary to heal my body. I wasn’t interested in getting involved with anyone until I had rebuilt my career. The way I was drawn to Jane was making me rethink that. Maybe I could find a way to have both.

I was starving by the time I arrived home, the mingled scents of tomato and garlic making my mouth water. More important was talking to Jane. She’d been as into that kiss as I was, but she’d pulled back. I hoped she wasn’t having second thoughts. I would respect her wishes no matter what, but I wanted to explore the possibilities I felt sparking between us.

I heard the shower running when I put my workout bag in my room. The image of her standing naked under the spray, water sluicing over her curves, my hands following the path of the water—I went right back downstairs, thinking about batting averages until I had my body under control.

When I heard the water turn off, I took plates from the cupboard and unboxed the takeout. I was walking a thin line, trying to balance my desire for Jane with knowing that I was gone as soon as Vancouver called me up. I didn’t want to hurt her. At the same time, I felt compelled to see where something might go. There was just something so authentic about her.

Jane came into the kitchen wearing a long knit top over leggings, her skin pink from the shower and her hair pulled back in a ponytail. Even in the long shirt, her leggings hugged her curves. Jane’s body was soft and round in all the right places, and I wanted to explore every inch of it. I was happy to see that the exhaustion that had lined her face earlier was gone.

Her eyes lit up when she saw the red-and-white paper bags. “You got Gino’s?”

“I hope that’s okay. A couple of the guys said they were good.” I handed her a plate. She dug into the containers, piling her plate with pasta and chicken before topping it off with sauce.

“Gino’s is terrific. I went to school with the woman who owns it, Gina Amato. She took over the restaurant after her father died. Best Italian food in southern Alberta.” Jane looked in the paper bags. “Please tell me you got breadsticks. Ordering from Gino’s and not getting breadsticks is criminal.”

I hid my laugh at her passion about the food. “They’re in the oven warming.”

I put on an oven mitt and set the steaming tray of breadsticks in front of her, before making up my own plate.

We took our plates to the family room, sitting on the couch to eat. After a few bites, I couldn’t wait any longer. I set my half-empty plate on the coffee table and faced Jane. “You wanted to talk about the kiss.”

Jane put her plate down and bit her lip, her hands kneading the hem of her top. “I did. I do. It’s just⁠—”

She let out a long sigh. “I haven’t dated a lot since Chad. I’m not good at this.”

Her nervousness stirred up all kinds of emotions: anger that Chad had treated her the way he had, guilt that I had contributed to it, relief that she trusted me enough to share her insecurities with me. I wanted to be worthy of her trust. “I’m not good at this either. I haven’t dated anyone since my divorce.”

Which was true. After the accident, I had put all my energy into getting healthy again. When Evie had left me, dating had been the last thing on my mind.

Jane’s eyes reflected cautious hope. “Really? So what now?”

“That depends. What do you want? If you want to stay friends, and nothing else, we can do that. If you want more, then we can go as fast or as slow as you want.”

I wouldn’t pressure her. That wasn’t my style, and besides, I couldn’t promise her anything. Her life was here in Red Rock. With any luck, my life would take me away to Vancouver some time later this season. I wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t want to start something that might not last. I knew what I wanted, but she had to be in the same headspace.

Silence stretched, ratcheting up the tension tightening my chest. The truth was, I wanted her. Maybe Chad had been right, and I’d wanted her even back when I’d first met her all those years ago. But I meant what I said. She was the one who had to choose. She had the most to lose.

“If we do this, no one can know.” Jane picked up one of my hands, slowly tracing the lines in my palm. Her hands were strong, but her touch was as gentle as it had been when she bandaged my eye. Every stroke of her fingers was a tantalizing distraction. I forced myself to listen to what she was saying instead of surrendering to what I was feeling.

“I don’t want Ethan to know. He may be seventeen, but his father’s abandonment hit him hard. I don’t want him to get his hopes up about you being a permanent part of our lives. We both know that as soon as you get the call to Vancouver, you’ll be gone. I’m fine with that. I know what this is. I know you’d never intentionally hurt him, but I don’t want to risk it.”

I relaxed back against the couch. She was putting Ethan first, as she should. It didn’t matter that he was almost an adult; protecting him was her priority. I had already seen firsthand how much Ethan missed having Chad in his life. Even now, with Chad spending more time with Ethan, he was guarded when he talked about his father. He expected to be let down. I didn’t want him to feel the same way about me too. I liked Ethan too much for that.

Keeping Wally out of my business wasn’t a bad idea anyway. Dating Jane publicly would definitely create some small-town gossip. And the thought of being her dirty little secret was more than a little hot. That was an added bonus.

“If that’s what you think is best, then we’ll keep it between us.” I closed my palm around her hands, tugging her closer to me. I pressed my lips against hers, gently stroking the tip of my tongue along the seam of her mouth, coaxing her to let me in. I wanted to taste all of her.

With a whimper, she opened to me, her tongue meeting mine. I cradled the back of her head, easing her against the couch until she was stretched out, her curves enveloping me. I wanted to touch her everywhere, burned to feel her skin. My cock hardened against her thigh, and I shifted to relieve some of the pressure. I didn’t want to rush her.

When her hands slipped under my shirt to stroke my back, I found the hem of her top and edged my hand underneath. I trailed my fingers over her belly and up her ribs, my mouth absorbing her little moan of encouragement, urging me to go farther. The silky feel of her bra was a siren song, begging me to take her breast in my hand, teasing the hardness of her nipple through the fabric.

As I plucked at her nipple, I dragged my lips down the side of her neck, nipping and sucking, eliciting more whimpers. She writhed under me as I teased her, each roll of her hips rubbing the length of my cock through my jeans.

I wanted all of her, to feel her around me, but resisted the urge to grind against her. I wanted to savour every moment, make it last. Her hands roamed over me, stroking my hair, then gripping my shoulders, each movement confident and eager.