Sweet Spot. Сьюзен Мэллери
of a workout for you.”
“You think?”
“I’m sure of it. You’re nice to offer, though. Thanks.”
There was more. He could read it in her eyes. The problem with an ex was that person knew the best way to hurt. He or she knew the weak spots, the soft underbelly. Apparently her ex wasn’t afraid to attack there.
He touched her cheek. “He’s wrong.”
“About what?”
“Whatever he said.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yeah, I do.”
Hawk’s expression was kind, his touch comforting and just a little sexy. He was exactly what she needed, Nicole thought.
His gaze dropped from her eyes to her mouth. Her body reacted with tingles and little sighs, and the man wasn’t even kissing her. How did he do that?
Before she could find out, there was the sound of several teenagers in the hallway. She stepped back.
“Reinforcements,” he said lightly. “I’ll get them to bring in the boxes.”
Which meant it could be done in a single trip, leaving her no excuse to stay and, for some reason, she wanted to stay.
“I have your change.” She dug in her jeans pocket and pulled out the money.
“Keep that for next time,” he said. “I’ll be ordering in a week.”
“Okay.”
“You’re going to stay for the meeting, aren’t you?”
“I, ah, sure.” Because the alternative was going home and avoiding her friends who all currently felt sorry for her.
Hawk sent several of the guys out to get the desserts she’d brought. Raoul returned with them and called out a greeting. She moved over to help with the setup.
“Am I freaking you out by being here?” she asked. “Is it too much like your boss being around in your personal life?”
He smiled. “No one says freaking anymore.”
“Sure they do.”
“Because you’re so hip?”
“No one says hip. I know that much.”
The teenager laughed. “It’s fine if you stay.”
“Good. Maybe I can give you a few pointers.”
“Maybe. Coach says women are a mysterious island and a smart man always knows the limits of his abilities.”
It was an interesting mixed metaphor. She didn’t doubt that Hawk had more experience than the average guy and that Raoul would be smart to listen to him.
In a matter of minutes, everyone was settled on folding chairs. Nicole found herself sitting next to Hawk, which made her happy. He was exactly the distraction she needed.
He pushed a remote. The lights went down and a grainy image of the game came on the big screen on the wall.
“You guys got lucky,” he said. “The snap was sloppy. Fundamentals are everything. Wilson, you were two seconds late off the line. Green, you’re supposed to be covering the quarterback. Their guys get through, we don’t score. It’s that simple.”
He dissected every second of the game, offering praise where it was deserved—which didn’t seem that often—and giving constructive criticism. He explained things simply. Even Nicole was able to follow what he was saying…at least for the first ten minutes or so. Then she felt a hand lightly brush her arm.
The unexpected contact nearly made her jump. She managed to stay in her seat and casually glanced down to see him running his fingers across the inside of her wrist. Slowly, gently, without once looking at her.
In theory there was nothing sexual about the contact. It shouldn’t have been meaningful. But there was something about the heat of his skin, the way he brushed his thumb across the inside of her palm, that made her want to squirm. She had to consciously control her breathing. After about ten minutes, she had to tell herself that throwing herself into his arms was completely inappropriate.
They took a break at halftime. The guys dove into the cupcakes and brownies, consuming everything she’d brought in a matter of seconds. Hawk leaned back in his chair.
“You enjoying the game?” he asked.
He sounds so damn casual, she thought, more than a little annoyed. With the lights on, they weren’t touching. He was acting like nothing had happened. Like they were little more than people who’d run into each other at the grocery store. She felt all squishy and swollen inside and desperately hungry for more than a light brush against her arm.
“I’m learning a lot,” she told him, determined not to let him know how he got to her. “I’ve never been into sports. It’s a lot more complicated than I’d realized.”
“Most things are. Want to get something to eat after this? Or head back to your place?”
“You’re very comfortable just going for it, aren’t you?” she asked, keeping her voice low and checking to make sure no one could hear them.
“I know what I want.”
Her? She shifted on the seat, then wished she hadn’t as her insides whimpered.
“Hawk, I …” What? Did she want to say yes?
Scratch that. Of course she wanted to say yes, but there were a thousand reasons why she shouldn’t. Sleeping with Hawk might be a momentary distraction, but she’d never been into easy. Or casual sex. She wasn’t sure reacting to Drew’s scathing comments by jumping into bed with someone else was smart.
“I should go.”
His dark gaze settled on her face. “How long are you going to run from me?”
“I don’t know.”
“Admitting you have a problem is the first step in solving it.”
“How very bumper sticker of you.”
She stood. He grabbed her hand and pulled her close.
“At least admit you’re tempted,” he murmured.
“More than you know.”
“HELLO?” Nicole said Monday afternoon as she answered the phone. She’d just left work and was looking forward to a little lounging time.
“Nicole? It’s Martin Bashear.”
Her lawyer. “Hi, Martin. How’s it going?”
“Well. I have a few things I want to talk to you about.”
“Am I going to like hearing them?”
“Probably not.”
She mentally braced herself. “Okay. What?”
“We’re at a crossroads with the Jesse situation. We either have to pursue prosecution or let it go.”
“You know what I want.”
“I do, but as your lawyer, it’s my job to give you advice. I’m going to advise you to drop the charges.”
She tightened her grip on the phone. “She stole the family recipe. A world-famous recipe. She baked Keyes chocolate cakes and sold them on the Internet. I can’t let her get away with that.”
“I agree that her behavior was reprehensible.”
That almost made her smile. Martin always talked like he had a stick up his butt. Usually she was the stuffy one in any relationship but with him she was, by comparison, the free spirit.
“She stole, Martin,” she repeated, feeling the outrage