Page 27 of Sideline Play

“Told you,” Sweeny crows.

“But that’s not how it should be,” Nash protests. “We need the money, yes, but Jesus, how much will this cost to put on? We could use that money to actually fund events. Not to mention, the people who turn up to these things only show up to have their picture taken and be seen there. They don’t actually care.”

“That’s the cost of making money I’m afraid,” she shrugs. “We deal with the same thing for Ro’s charity, but what we make far exceeds what is put into it. Not to mention, you’ll get sponsors who will donate catering and planning and really just about anything so their name can be attached to the event and all the potential business they’ll receive from it when it hits the press and social media.

“We were able to charge people $25,000 just to attend. We also had a silent auction with a $15,000 minimum bid, a full casino, and a small concert put on by several country artists. That one event brought in enough money for Ro to buy a dozen houses and even more condos for Phoenix House, plus run it for nine months.”

Throwing a pen at his desk, Nash reclines back in his chair, defeated.

“Fine,” he sighs. “Let’s do it. I want the record to show I don’t like it though.”

“Duly noted,” Scarlet nods, leaning forward to begin drafting a list on the shared document of what we need to do. “I’ll give Remi Savannah’s number. She did all the planning for us free of charge.” Glancing back at me, she chews on her cheek and corrects, “On second thought, Reeves, you’re coming home right?”

“Yeah?”

“And you’re single?”

“Yes…”

“Great,” she beams, tapping at her phone’s screen. “I’ll send you her number instead.”

“What am I missing?

Blowing a piece of hair from her face, she sighs, “To quoteThe Golden Girls, I’m pretty sure Ro ‘paid with nature’s credit card.’”

Barking out a laugh, I tighten my arm around Scarlet and say, “So it’s settled. We’re doing a gala in the spring, no one’s overly thrilled about it, and Scar is pimpin’ out Dawson so we don’t have to actually plan the damn thing and can instead start working on scheduling what events we can attend with the kids.”

“Hold on, I didn’t–fuuuuck,” he draws out as Scar shows him her phone screen.

“That’s Savannah?” Nash asks.

“Yep.”

“I mean… my bed’s open too… you know, just in case she requires a payment plan.”

Realizing Scarlet changed her mind in case the planner offered me the same discount program she gave her brother, I smile and tell the guys, “Y’all figure the rest out on your own.” Not waiting for a response, I exit the chat and slam my computer closed.

Closing my other arm around her as she protests our sudden exit from the conversation, I graze my lips up her neck and whisper, “I’m all yours, Scar; you just have to tell me when you want me,” before disentangling myself from around her. “Now come on, we have pink funfetti cupcakes to make.” Winnie suddenly comes back to life as she races ahead of me for the kitchen, knowing cupcakes means I’ll be making her cookies as well so she’s not left out of dessert tonight.

TWELVE

SCARLET

On the listof things I never stopped to consider would be sexy: a man baking me cupcakes. Maybe it’s just a Remington thing and that’s why I never considered it. I don’t know but I’m pretty sure watching him in the kitchen shouldn’t leave me drooling. At least not for the ridges of his abs and the V along his hips that disappears into the low waistband of his sweatpants.

Now that I’m staring at it, all I can think about is whether or not he’s wearing underwear. His pants are indecently low, making my head cant to the side as I study him while trying to pick out a boxer line.

Is that his dick?

Shit, it’s getting hot in this damn kitchen. Never mind the still open doors to the deck letting in the gentle fall breeze.

“Scar?” he calls, a smile tugging at his lips

Quickly righting my head, I plaster on a smile that I’m sure looks as manic as it feels and respond, “Yeah?”

“Did you finish?”

Slowly shaking my head as my eyes drift back down his body, I murmur, “No, but I probably could,” my eyes zeroing in on the bulge in his pants, confirming that it is indeed his dick. After allthe recovery massages I’ve given him over the last six weeks, I would know the outline of that half erect cock anywhere.

---