Chapter 11

ADDISON STOOD IN THE center of her living room, hands clenched on hips, her eyes greedily taking it all in. Boxes needed to be opened, pictures needed to be hung, and champagne needed to be uncorked—and then guzzled in celebration.

She was finally in her new home in Chicago, and tomorrow, she would check in on how the ad campaign for Beautiful by Addison was coming along. T & A shouldn’t be difficult to market, but she was in this business for more than the hard sell. She was promoting hope and possibility to women who didn’t always think they deserved to feel attractive. Sexy was more than a pretty bra and panties. Sexy was the confidence to rock what you’ve got.

Sexy was a guy who locked eyes with you across a crowded bar patio and made you want more than you’d ever wanted in your life.

Her phone buzzed.

Speak of the chocolate-eyed devil . . .

Ford: Hey.

Addison studied the screen, marveling at how thinking about him had conjured him out of the electronic ether. He was back in New Orleans, but they’d talked for several hours over the last week since the party at Jimmy’s Tap. Movies, music, food. Their lives before that night on the balcony. So many details, like an old-fashioned courtship.

Those words he left with her—I think we could be pretty amazing together—still resonated in her blood and were spreading their tentacles into her heart and soul. Their sexual chemistry was undeniable, yet she was beginning to think in terms that didn’t necessarily involve her hormones.

Or not just her hormones.

Perhaps they could keep it under wraps. He could visit when he had a few days between games. At least three times per season, he had to play the Chicago Rebels because they were part of the Western Conference. Their dirty little secret, their continued safety in the dark. It would be enough for her. It would have to be.

She refocused on his text message.

Hey? Typical man. God forbid he elaborate.

Addison: Hey, yourself.

Ford: What are you not wearing?

Addison: Really?

Ford: Can do this all day.

She laughed. Boy, she had missed him.

Addison: I’d like to hear your voice.

Seconds passed, each as long as an hour. Stupid, Addison. Stupid, stupid.

Ford: Then open up.

She blinked at the last message. Could he mean . . . ?

A knock on the door answered her question. The joy in her chest was really too much. Tamp it down. Don’t make a fool of yourself.

She bounded to the door. Less bounding, woman. Bounding is for dogs.

Tearing the door open, she tried to school her expression to bland but his big, goofy smile was the first thing she saw and it made hers erupt all over her face.

“Hey, Bright—”

She was in his arms before he could finish, her mouth on his hot and hungry.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” she gasped between blistering kisses. “I didn’t expect you.”

He hitched her up around his hips, no simple task given she was a big girl, but God, he made it seem so easy. He made this seem so easy.

“I had to see you,” he murmured. Hot kiss. “Been thinking about you all week.” Hotter kiss. “This okay?”

“Yes.” Hottest kiss of all.

He pushed her against the hallway wall, leaving the door to her apartment open. “Couldn’t wait. Had to have you.”

Her yoga pants made it halfway down her thighs and her panties didn’t even get that far. He just pushed them aside and pushed two fingers inside her.

“Addy,” he groaned as if it was more of his body and not just those fingers.

She tore at his zipper, needing to free him, because she knew he was suffering. Already, she knew he needed to drive deep and she needed him to do it. So badly.

Desire was their default setting but his words were like a balm to her healing heart. I had to see you. Been thinking about you all week. They hadn’t spent much time discussing who they were, what they wanted in life, whether they could really make it together, but there had been a quiet comfort with him from the moment they first spoke. He heard her. He saw her. Today, he came for her, and she had a feeling he always would.

A few times a year could never be enough.

Somehow, she’d fallen in love with a hockey player.

Afterward, they lay on the floor, panting back to normal, except in Addy’s case, normal had to be recalibrated. An already tricky situation had just become a hundred times more complicated. She had fallen for this big, beautiful, made-her-feel-happy guy.

“I don’t recall giving you my address, Callaghan.”

“Haven’t you heard? Harper Chase is a good pal of mine,” he whispered against her ear.

“Do you think we might actually make it to a bed one of these days?”

“Clearly, our best work is done on rugs.”

The door was still open. “One of my new neighbors could walk by any minute. Quite an introduction.”

He nudged the door closed with his boot, but made no effort to move or cover himself. Baby Jesus in the manger, he was glorious, jutting proudly and still erect. She felt an urge to kiss him. So she did. Right on the still swollen, damp crown.

That’s when it hit her.

“We didn’t use a condom.”

He blew out a breath. “Baby, I’m sorry. I just saw you and the next thing I know—”

“I was there, Callaghan.” She scooted up and kissed him, long and luxurious on his lips. “I assume I have nothing to worry about.”

“I promise.”

She nodded. “And your lucrative contract is safe. No paternity claims in your future.”

Something shadowed over his face, a discomfort she hadn’t seen marring his handsomeness before. “Wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen.” He skimmed a hand over her belly, his previous unease now replaced by something that looked a lot like yearning. She knew she wanted children eventually, but Michael hadn’t been interested. He had told her it would ruin her figure, which was rich considering he didn’t want her to use that figure earning a living.

He merely wanted the benefits for himself.

Ford respected her and her ambitions. If it ever came to a point where they took this further, she knew they would work it out together. As a team. She had no reason for hope but it was here inside her, bursting to get out.

For now, she reined in those runaway thoughts.

“You hungry?” she asked.

“Starving. But like I promised before, after sex, I make the sandwiches.”

Addison’s phone rang on the nightstand, cutting into a very pleasant dream about Ford taking her hard in the executive box at the Cajun Rage arena while he wore a Rebels jersey and nothing else. Weird, because he with the Rajuns. Clearly her mind was trying to remove all traces of her ex from her dream consciousness.

Struggling awake, she smiled, her body feeling well-used and pleasure-sated. Ford was here in the flesh, had shown up last night and stayed. This was madness, yet somehow she didn’t have the willpower to throw him out. She wanted this, wanted to see if they could carve a path out for this thing they were building together.

She ignored the phone, not ready for the reality intrusion. It rang again. Another ignore, then the buzz of a text. And again.

Someone really wanted her to answer. She checked the screen.

Harper: We need to talk. Now.

With a smile over her shoulder at the naked god tangled up in her sex-rumpled sheets, she sidled from the bed and walked outside the bedroom (okay, hobbled). Ford’s résumé of marketable sex skills was getting longer and longer.

She called Harper back. “What’s so urgent?”

“Is Ford with you?”

“Yep, he’s sleeping off my use and abuse.” She giggled, feeling silly. But happy. God, so happy.

“Michael knows.”

All that happy turned to sludge in her gut. “How? We’ve been so careful. How could he—?”

“My contact at the Rajuns says it came from Callaghan himself. Ford walked into Michael’s office yesterday and told him he wanted to date you.”

The sludge rose to her chest, clumping into a bright ball of fury. “Are you kidding me? Why the hell would he do that?”

Harper sighed. “He’s got it bad, babe. And he’s prepared to risk his spot on the team to make this work.”

“But, we hardly know each other. We’ve only just met and—” Her voice was climbing in panic. What the hell had he been thinking? He just waltzed in and told Michael? “What did your contact say? What happens now?”

“Michael is weighing his options. Nothing in Ford’s contract forbids him from dating the ex-wife of the team’s owner, but,” she gave a slight, embarrassed cough, “I can’t imagine Michael saying ‘Hey ho, that’s just swell, buddy. Bang away.’”

Neither could Addison.

But that wasn’t what had her muscles itching to pop from her skin. Granted, the fact Michael now knew was not preferred but more important was how he knew. What in all that was holy was Ford thinking in fessing up? He had gone over her head and outed them. And there was only one reason he would have done it.

To force her hand.

Not cool. A dick move, actually. This was the kind of behavior she’d expect from her ex, a man with an ego as big as all outdoors. Michael was fond of the executive decision, of treating their marriage like an asset in his empire where he called all the shots. She’d never felt like a partner. Never felt like his equal. To find that Ford would think nothing of treating her with such disrespect ripped the air from her lungs.

“He had no right to make this decision without consulting me.”

Harper’s sigh was world-weary. “And there’s that.”