“No problem.” She went right to work. Yet another difference between her and Sasha, who would have made some excuse about ruining her designer duds or breaking a nail.
Not that the comparison mattered. Because he wasn’t any more interested in Ivy than he was in Sasha. Despite her obvious charms. Charms that were on full display as she bent to gather the gear in that tied-too-tight shirt and shorter-than-short shorts.
It took him twice as long as it should have to pry up the bases thanks to the repeated glimpses of Ivy’s ample cleavage and biteable bottom. When he was done, he met her behind the backstop, where she was zipping up the bag.
“All set.”
“I’ll get that.” He reached for the bag as she hefted it over her shoulder.
“Are you kidding?” She shook him off and started for the parking lot, not even breaking a sweat. “You’ve seen the stuff I work with, right? I haul around twice this much every day.”
“I thought you had people to do that for you.”
“Not always.”
She hitched up the bag, and for the first time he realized what had struck him about her in the studio. Not so much that she was thinner than he remembered her, but that she was stronger.
No, that wasn’t right, either. It was a strength inside, not just physically, that hadn’t been there before.
“Quit dawdling,” she called to him, not missing a step.
“Right behind you.”
He jogged a few paces to catch up and they walked to his SUV in silence.
“Home free.” Cade hit the button on his remote to unlock the doors.
“Hey, baby.”
So damn close, but yet so fucking far.
Sasha’s high heels crunched in the gravel as she bore down on them across the parking lot. “Wait up.”
“So much for your diversionary tactic.” Ivy tossed the equipment bag onto the backseat. “Guess Trey’s not the ladies’ man either of you think he is.”
She slammed the door and turned to face him, hands on her hips in that way she had, the one that made her breasts strain against the fabric of her shirt, her nipples clearly visible under the SFD logo. He cleared his throat and adjusted the crotch of his baseball pants.
“Come on.” He reached for the car door handle. “We can still make it if we hurry. This puppy may not look like much, but it can go zero to sixty in under seven seconds.”
“I’ve got a better idea.” Ivy put a hand over his, stopping him from opening the door. “Kiss me.”
His breath caught in his throat. “What?”
“Are you deaf or dense?” She leaned in to him, pressing those damn delicious breasts against his chest. “Kiss. Me. Like you mean it. If that doesn’t convince her you’re not interested, nothing will.”
He took a step back and found himself pinned between Ivy’s soft, warm curves and the cold, hard SUV. Not much of a dilemma there except for the whole safe-distance thing. “I thought that was a last resort.”
“What’s more last-resort than her closing in on us like a heat-seeking missile? It’s why you brought me here, isn’t it? What we practiced for.” She molded herself to him and he was pretty sure she could feel his erection against her thigh. “One little kiss and she’ll get the message.”
“And what message is that, exactly?”
With surprising force, she grabbed his shoulders and spun him around so she was the one trapped against the car. She rose up on tiptoe so when she spoke her lips moved against his.
“This one.”
* * *
THEIR FIRST KISS was a brushfire compared to this. This was a five-alarm inferno.
Last time Ivy had gone in with the intent to tease, to tantalize. This time she was more like a one-woman wrecking crew, determined to wipe thoughts of Sasha or any other woman from Cade’s mind.
Only he wasn’t biting. Literally or figuratively.
She slid her lips along his strong jaw, smiling as she tasted him. Salt and soap and all sorts of yummy maleness. Just like she’d imagined since she hit puberty.
“This isn’t supposed to be a solo performance,” she whispered against his neck. The sweet scrape of his five-o’-clock shadow made her lips tingle. “Do something. Put your hand on my ass. Your tongue down my throat. Anything.”
He mumbled something that sounded like “fuck safe distance,” wedged a leg between hers and cupped her ass, dragging her to him. She sighed into the hollow at the base of his neck and reached around to pull his shirt from the waistband of his pants.
“That’s more like it.” She slipped her hands under his shirt and up his back, still slick with sweat from the ball game, scraping gently with her nails as she went. He rewarded her with a shudder and her insides did a little happy dance. He might want to deny it, but he was as affected by this as she was. The evidence was undeniable, pressing against her core.
“Christ, Ivy.” He moaned, further proving her point.
Over his shoulder she saw Sasha. Her steps had slowed and her mouth gaped as she stared at them.
“Perfect. She’s looking at us like she’s seen the Ghost of Christmas Past. Kiss me and she’ll probably keel over.”
“Then it’s a good thing there’s plenty of cops and firefighters around,” Cade murmured just before his mouth claimed hers. His hands left her bottom and traveled up to frame her face. In one swift but gentle move, he tugged off her baseball cap and freed her hair from the ponytail, letting it cascade over his fingers.
A moan stuck in Ivy’s throat as his lips teased and pressed harder. She opened to him, letting his tongue play with hers in a dance as old as time but new to her. Sure, she’d kissed guys before. Not many, but a few. And not like this. Hot. Wet. Urgent.
She melted into him, her legs unable to support her weight. His big hand trailed down her neck, his fingers toying with the top button of the borrowed baseball jersey, teasing the sensitive skin between her breasts and making her shiver.
He broke off the kiss and licked a moist path to her ear, his teeth tugging at the lobe. “Sasha still watching?”
Sasha who?
“Uh-huh.” The two syllables were all Ivy could manage.
“She look convinced?” His breath stirred the hair behind her ear, and he raised a hand to twine a strand around his finger.
It took a second for Ivy to come out of her lust-induced haze so she could focus on the parking lot beyond Cade’s shoulder. Sasha was at a dead stop a few feet away, hands on her model-thin hips, eyes flashing. She met Ivy’s gaze, tossed her perfectly coiffed, long, blond hair in a gesture that screamed “I have no clue why he’s with you when he could have all of this” and stomped off.
“She looks pissed. Or looked. She’s gone now.”
“Good.” He let his hand drop and reached around her to open the car door. “Your chariot awaits.”
“Valentino’s?” she asked, still shaking a bit from the aftereffects of their kiss as she climbed in. “I’m dying for a piece of meat-lovers pie. Or three.”
She cringed, instantly regretting mentioning her appetite—another knee-jerk reaction from her way overweight days, when talk of food had been all but verboten—but Cade didn’t seem to notice. He leaned on the open door. “Sasha’s bound to be there. Sure you’re