Page 59 of Game On

He looked up across the industrial outfitted kitchen and into the great room, which was open to the two stories above, to where Carly stood. She reached up to run her fingers along the mammoth stone fireplace. She was gorgeous. The fragility in her eyes had faded as the day wore on, but he knew she was still edgy. The smiles she’d doled out to the kid were stiffer than her usual, easy grins. Still, she was a tough one, he’d give her that. The decision to bring her along had been instinctive. He couldn’t leave her in Baltimore, but he should have sent her to the beach where her sister and Coach could watch out for her and he wouldn’t have to battle his lusty thoughts.

Yep, definitely an idiot.

“When you said a cabin, I was expecting something a bit more . . . rustic. And definitely smaller.”

Silently unpacking the groceries, he let Carly have a one-sided conversation. He knew he was being a jerk, but he didn’t care. Last night had been long and sleepless for him. He wasn’t used to sharing a bed with a woman without sex being involved. Carly spent most of the night clinging to him as she drifted in and out of a fitful sleep. He’d spent most of it hard despite trying to conjure up images of the Golden Girls in a Victoria’s Secret catalog. Nothing worked. He was tired and mean from fighting off his desire to sink into Carly every time she laughed at the kid or bent over to pat Beckett.

“How long have you had it?”

He jumped at the sound of her voice. She’d joined him in the kitchen and was pulling bottles of water out of their case, loading them in the huge Thermador refrigerator.

How long had he had a serious case of the hots for her? Since the moment I laid eyes on you. He was pretty sure her question was about the cabin, though.

Shane gave up ignoring her. “I grew up a couple hundred yards down the side of the mountain. My grandparents had a prefab house—you’d call it a trailer—that couldn’t be hauled up to this spot. My grandmother always liked to picnic up here, though. Grandpa dragged an old redwood picnic table up here so we could eat dinner in “God’s kitchen,” as my grandmother referred to it.” He pulled apples from a plastic bag and tossed them next to some bananas in a fruit bowl.

“That sounds nice,” Carly said as she paused in front of the open fridge.

“It was a pain in the ass.” He wadded up the plastic bags and tossed them in a drawer. Carly gave him a hard look as he grabbed the cardboard case and began to break it down for recycling. “It’s a long way to carry a supper up and back every night,” he said in response to her look. “After I signed with the pros, I built this place for them.”

Leaning against the stainless steel fridge, she crossed her arms beneath her breasts and grinned at him. Before she could get the words out he stopped her.

“Don’t say it was sweet of me,” he practically growled at her. “My success was as much theirs and they needed a home. I didn’t do it to be sweet.” He watched as she bit back a grin. “My grandmother didn’t live to see it finished. And my grandfather, he just kind of existed here for three years after she died.”

He’d shocked her, he could see it in her face. Pushing away from the refrigerator, she unwrapped the paper towels, placing them on the decorative rack under the counter.

“So, no one uses it anymore?” she asked, her back to him.

“Roscoe and his family use it to ski during the winter,” Shane said as he dumped a bag of tomatoes into the colander in the sink. “He uses it to entertain clients, sometimes.”

“And you?”

He rinsed the tomatoes under the water. “I come here this time every year to regroup before the season.”

“Alone?”

She’d taunted him once too much. Before he knew what he was doing, he had her pinned against the door of the refrigerator. “Yes, alone,” he said against her neck. “No women. No distractions.” He breathed in the citrus smell of her hair. “You’re a distraction, Carly.”

Jesus, he was as bad as Thompkins, using his body to force himself on a woman. He pulled back a couple of inches so he could look into her face. What he saw in her eyes wasn’t the terror of a woman being ravaged by a man twice her size, but heat. Sexual heat. Her breathing was as ragged as his as she chewed on her bottom lip.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said through clenched teeth.

Snaking her hands around his neck, she pulled his head down. “I know,” she said before her lips met his. Her mouth was soft and warm, and Shane wasted no time returning her kiss. The tension of holding his body in check the previous night and all day drove him on as his hands roamed her body and he devoured her mouth. He couldn’t get enough of her, ready to take her against the cool stainless steel.

Carly pulled away from the kiss, flinging her head back against the refrigerator door with a moan. Shane’s mind shut down as his aching body took control, his lips cruising a path along her slender neck.

“There was a rental car place back in town,” she said, breathless. “I can go there and get a car. I’ll go to New York and wait for Julianne to come home.”

It took a moment for her words to sink in. It took a moment longer for Shane to get his runaway libido back in check. “No,” he said, his tone rough. What was she thinking? What were they both thinking? “You’re not going anywhere until Thompkins is in custody.” Reluctantly pulling back from her, he looked at her again. Her face was flushed and a purple mark was forming on her left shoulder. Christ, he was behaving like an animal. Taking a deep breath, he placed his hands on her shoulders, massaging them gently. Tears shimmered in her eyes and her body began to get that limp, rag-doll feel again.

“I can’t stay here with you.” She gulped back a sob. “It’s just too tempting to crawl inside you where it’s safe.” Her body shuddered with another suppressed sob.

Safe. Shane was fairly certain no other woman had used that word to describe him. As flattering as some men might think it, he wasn’t feeling too safe around Carly right now. Not to mention the idea of being responsible for her—and the kid—contributed to his bitter mood.

“Does Coach know you’re here?” Maybe thinking of the ramifications of them being alone together would cool them off.

She nodded slowly. “It’s okay,” she said, her voice nearly a whisper. “I . . . I told them I came to keep Troy company. They know you aren’t exactly thrilled with having him around.”

Great. Not only did she care more for the other Devlin, but he’d forgotten that the kid was within earshot. He and Carly had been thirty seconds from being naked on the counter and he could have walked in on them at any moment. Shane sighed and touched his head to her forehead. The sound of Beckett’s toenails scratching on the tile floor gave them enough warning, however. He let his lips trail along her hairline as she pulled free of his embrace.