“Is this the new contract?”
I blink, pulling my attention away from Tess’s ass and back to her face. She’s standing at the bar now, glancing over her shoulder at me, a packet of papers in hand. I refocus on the papers. “Oh…yeah, that’s it.”
She sets her clutch down on the bar and starts flipping through the first few pages. “Wow, I’ve never seen a professional sports contract before. This all seems pretty complicated. Have you taken a look at it yet?”
I shift uncomfortably. “Well, I have an agent to help with all the contract stuff, so…”
She turns back to the contract. “Agents are great, but it’s always good to read a contract for yourself just so you know all the particulars—”
“Hey, Lawyer Tess?” I tease, reaching over her to splay my hand across the page she’s reading. Our fingertips brush, and I feel her go still next to me. Fuck, standing this close to her I can smell her perfume. It mingles with the smell of her coconutty hair oil to make a fruity, floral bouquet. It’s like she’s a damn walking tropical paradise. My very own Sex on the Beach.
“Hmm?” She turns slightly to glance up at me.
I push on the contract and she lets me lower it to the bar. “I was promised a date with Tess Owens. I’d prefer we not spend it pouring over contracts.”
She purses those red lips at me. “Some might consider it foreplay.”
“What, are you gonna read aloud my bonus payout schedule line by line so we can both get hard over how much money will be pouring into my account?”
“Mhmm,” she says, the sound a hum in her throat. “A quarter million upon signing. Five hundred thousand will transfer on March first…”
Fuck, how is that actually working? Am I getting hard right now? Her eyes narrow like a sexy feline, and I know she knows. “Oh, fuck you,” I say with a laugh that morphs into a groan as I drag my hand down over my face. “You’re a goddamn she-devil.”
She laughs too. “You are too easy.”
“And you’re too cruel,” I tease back.
Somehow, I know the moment I’ve said the words that they were the wrong words. Something stutters behind those pretty hazel eyes. It’s like a broken TV with static as I see things I know she doesn’t want me to see—fear, anger, sadness, frustration. I blink and she’s back to smiling, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.
“Let’s go, handsome,” she says, ignoring the contract as she snaps her clutch shut. “I’m driving.”
Thirty minutes later, I’m seated across from Tess at a small, candlelit table in a busy fish camp restaurant. Tess ordered a glass of rosé, and I ordered a beer, and we clinked our glasses to my new contract. A half-eaten shrimp cocktail sits on the table between us.
I can’t take my eyes off her. She’s distracted and present at the same time. I know she’s enjoying my company, and I made her laugh in the car the whole way here. But she’s lost in her own head too. I wish she would open up a little more.
“Can I ask you something?” she says, her thumb absently brushing up and down the slender stem of her wine glass.
I perk up. “Yeah, anything.”
“Why are you really crashing at Ilmari’s house?”
I tap the table, gesturing below it to my knee. “Busted knee, remember? The place I rent is a split-level with, like, four sets of stairs. Sully and the guys were being ogres about wanting me in a place without stairs while I rehab.”
She takes a sip of her wine, considering my words. “But why are you renting a split-level? Why are you renting period? If that contract I saw is any indication, you could be living in a much nicer situation. It doesn’t make sense that you’re mooching off Mars when you can clearly afford to take care of yourself.”
Shit, she wants to get deep tonight, doesn’t she? I guess that’s the way things are with Tess. She’s an ‘all or nothing’ kind of woman. Maybe if I share my truth with her, she’ll reciprocate and be more open with me.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “That’s probably too personal for a first date, right?”
Fuck, she’s pulling away again. She’s shutting off.
“I’m a planner,” I blurt, diving headfirst into my reply. “I don’t know, I’ve always been that guy that wants a plan. I like organization, and I like things being in their proper place.”
“Well, that makes sense, seeing as you’re a Virgo,” she replies, taking another sip of her wine.