Page 8 of Deck His Balls

Joel’s eyes darken. “Trish…Are you inviting me over?”

“Maybe.” I gather my courage. “Nine o’clock? I’ll tell you my secret then.”

“It’s a date.” His thumb brushes across my knuckles before releasing my hand. “Now, let’s go meet Jas’s baby girl.”

Chapter Five

Joel

My knuckles rap against Tricia’s front door at exactly nine o’clock. The butterflies in my stomach are ridiculous. I run a multimillion-dollar company, for God’s sake. A coffee date shouldn’t make me this nervous.

But this isn’t just coffee. This is Tricia.

The door swings open, and my carefully rehearsed greeting dies in my throat. Tricia stands there in a faded Serenity Hoops Camp shirt and basketball shorts, her hair pulled back in a messy bun. No makeup, no pretense, just pure Tricia. She’s never looked more beautiful.

“Well, if it isn’t the CEO who thinks he can out-shoot an All-Star.” Her eyes sparkle with that competitive fire I can’t resist. “Come on in, Mr. Moneybags. Let’s see if your coffee game is as weak as your jump shot.”

“Oh, it’s on, Coach.” I follow her inside, trying not to stare at the way those shorts hug her curves. “I’ll have you know my latte art puts Picasso to shame.”

“Big words from a man who probably has his assistant fetch his coffee.” She laughs, and I stay silent as she’s not wrong. “Luckily. your coffee art skills won’t be needed today.”

Swallowing my smile, I step into her home. Her living room perfectly captures her essence as professional athlete meets passionate philanthropist. Framed jerseys share wall space with candid shots. A particular photo catches my eye of Tricia surrounded by grinning children, her smile brighter than stadium lights.

“You know,” I call out as she heads to the kitchen, “for someone who claims to be all about the game, you sure have a lot of pictures around here.”

Her laughter floats back to me. “Please, those are mostly team photos. Unlike some people, I don’t need my face plastered everywhere to boost my ego.”

“Oh, you wound me.”

She returns with two steaming mugs, and the scent of premium coffee fills the air. As she leans down to set them on the coffee table, her spicy perfume makes my head spin.

“Careful,” she warns, settling beside me. “It’s hot.”

“I can handle the heat.” Our fingers brush as I take my mug, and electricity zings through me.

Tricia’s eyes meet mine, and the playful banter fades. That same crackling tension from the hospital corridor returns full force.

I clear my throat. “So, about that secret you promised to tell me.”

Her confident facade wavers. “Right. That.” She sets her mug down, fingers fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. “Promise not to laugh?”

“Never.”

Tricia takes a deep breath. “I’ve been having these dreams too. About you.”

My heart slams against my ribs. “Dreams?”

“Where we’re together.” A blush creeps across her cheeks. “Not just playing basketball, but…”

“Let me guess – I’m showing off my superior court skills?”

She rolls her eyes, but I catch her relieved smile. “You wish, Mitchell. But seriously, it’s been driving me crazy. I thought I was losing my mind.”

I lean closer. “You’re not crazy, Tricia. I told you last night. Those dreams? They mean something.”

“Joel.” My name comes out like a prayer. “What are we doing?”

“Right now?” I cup her face, my thumb tracing her cheekbone. Her pulse races under my touch. “I’m going to kiss you. Unless you tell me to stop.”

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