“Let me give you a hint about your boss, Wren,” Mac stated, his arm around Rory’s waist. “When he lies he always sounds disinterested, faraway, detached.”
Unfortunately, being in love hadn’t affected Mac’s observational skills and he was as sharp as ever. “Shut the hell up, McCaskill, you have no idea what you are talking about. I met Brodie once, a while ago.”
“Why didn’t you tell us about her?” Quinn demanded, unsatisfied.
“Do you tell me about the women you meet?” Kade responded.
Quinn thought for a moment before grinning. “Pretty much, yeah. And if I don’t tell you, then the press will.”
Kade pulled a face. The society pages of their local papers and many internet sites devoted far too much time speculating about their love lives. Mac had provided a break for Kade and Quinn as the media devoured the news that he was settling down with the lovely Rory, but recently they’d restarted their probing inquiries about the state of his and Quinn’s love lives. Many of the papers hinted, or outright demanded, it was time the other two “Maverick-teers” followed Mac’s example.
Kade felt that he would rather kiss an Amazonian dart frog.
Only Mac and Quinn knew his past, knew about his unconventional upbringing as the son of a mostly itinerant artist who dragged him from place to place and town to town on a whim. They understood his need to feel financially secure and because they worked together, invested together and always stuck together, the three of them, along with Wren’s grandfather, were in the position to buy their beloved hockey team, the Vancouver Mavericks.
Yeah, he might be, along with Quinn, a wealthy, eligible and elusive bachelor, but he had every intention of staying that way. Legalities and partnership agreements and a million miles of red tape—and his belief in the loyalty of his friends—had allowed him to commit to his career with the Mavericks, formerly as a player and now as the CEO and, hopefully, as a future co-owner. But a personal commitment? Hell no.
He’d learned that hard lesson as a child. As soon as he found someone to love—a dog, a friend, a teacher, a coach—his father would rip it away by packing up their lives and moving them along. Emotional involvement sent Kade backward to his powerless childhood.
He’d hated that feeling then and he loathed it now. His theory was if you didn’t play in a rainstorm, then you wouldn’t get hit by lightning. He made damn sure the women he dated had no expectations, that they thoroughly understood he was a here-now-gone-tomorrow type of guy. That they shouldn’t expect anything from him.
Despite his up-front attitude, there were always women who thought they could change his mind so he’d still had to ease himself out of situations. Sometimes he managed it with charm, sometimes he had to be blunt, but when he sensed his lovers were becoming emotionally invested, he backed off. Way, way off.
Brodie Stewart was the only woman who’d ever turned the tables on him, who’d backed away before he could. Backed away before he’d even gotten her into bed.
“...she had all the emotional depth of a puddle!”
Kade pulled his attention back to the conversation and caught the tail end of Rory’s comment. She was scowling at Quinn and he looked unrepentant, being his bad-boy self.
“Honey, I wasn’t dating her for her conversational skills,” Quinn stated.
Rory shook her head and rested her chin on Mac’s shoulder. “One day you are going to meet someone who you can’t resist and I hope she gives you hell,” Rory said, her tone and expression fierce.
“Rorks, unfortunately butt-face here claimed you before I did so I am destined to be a free spirit.” Quinn put his hand on his heart, his eyes laughing.
Rory, smart girl that she was, didn’t fall for Quinn’s BS. Instead, she poked Quinn’s stomach. “You will meet her and I will not only laugh while I watch you run around her like a headless chicken, I will encourage her to give you as much trouble as possible.” She stretched past Quinn to jab Kade in the stomach. “That goes for you, too, Kade. The female population of Vancouver has spoiled you two rotten.”
“I’m not complaining.” Kade smiled, taking a sip of his lime-flavored water.
“Me neither,” Quinn quickly agreed. He stuck his tongue in his cheek as he continued to tease Rory. “And I don’t think we’ve been spoiled—we’ve been treated as per our elevated status as hockey gods.”
“That just shows how moronic some women can be,” Rory muttered. She looked up at Mac and narrowed her eyes. “You’re very quiet, McCaskill. Got anything to say?”
Mac dropped a kiss on her forehead and another on her mouth. “Hell no! This is your argument with my friends. But, since I am taking you home and hoping to get lucky, I’ll just agree with everything you say.”
Quinn made the sound of a cracking whip and Kade rolled his eyes before he said, “Wimp.”
“You might wear the trousers but Rory picks them out,” Quinn added and immediately stepped back to lessen the impact of Mac’s big fist smacking his shoulder. “May I point out that before Rory snagged you, you were—”
“No, you absolutely may not.” Wren’s cool voice interrupted their smack talk. “Can you three please act like the responsible, smart businessmen that people—mistakenly I might add—think you are and behave yourselves? The first sponsor has arrived.”
Kade didn’t need Wren’s nod toward the ballroom to tell him Brodie had arrived. He’d felt the prickle of anticipation between his shoulder blades, felt the energy in the room change. He was super aware of her. As he slowly turned, he felt the world fade away.
She hadn’t changed, yet...she had. It had only been six months, but somehow she was a great deal more attractive than he remembered. Her dress hugged a toned body and her long black hair was now a short, feathery cap against her head. What definitely hadn’t changed was her ability to send all his blood rocketing south to a very obvious and inconvenient place.
“Well, well, well...isn’t this interesting?” Mac drawled in Kade’s ear.
“First time I’ve seen our boy gobsmacked, dude,” Quinn added. “Shut your mouth, boyo, you’re drooling.”
Kade ignored his friends. Life had unexpectedly dropped Brodie back into his realm again and he wanted what he’d always wanted every time he’d laid eyes on her: Brodie in his bed, under him, naked and legs around him...eyes begging for him to come on in.
Her perfume reached him before she did and he realized it was the same scent he remembered. It took him straight back to those early-morning runs in the park, to crisp air and the hesitant smile of the black-haired girl who waited for him by the running store and kept up with his fast pace along the seawall. He hadn’t run in the park since the morning he’d heard about Vernon’s death.
And kissed Brodie.
It had been an incredible kiss and the one highlight of a couple of really tough, horrible months. If only he had the memory of taking her to bed, too...
So it turned out he didn’t want long, hot sex with any random woman. He wanted to make love to Brodie. Interesting.
Crazy.
And pretty damn dangerous. He wouldn’t—couldn’t—allow her to know the effect she had on him, how he instantly craved her and the crazy chemical reaction he was experiencing. It wasn’t clever to admit she was the only woman he’d ever encountered who could thoroughly disconcert him, who could wipe every rational thought from his brain.
Okay, he was officially losing it. Maybe it was time, as Wren had suggested, he started acting like the CEO he was supposed to be.
With anyone else, he could do it with his eyes closed. Around Brodie, he might have to put his back into it.
So