Page 6 of Finding Out

Her pulse fluttered in her neck as she regarded me. Fuck, how I’d love to press my tongue against it and feel each beat.

“A tone for what?” The breathy whisper floated around us, making it impossible not to glance down to her mouth. When her tongue snaked out to wet her bottom lip, my body reacted like it had run along my skin.

Damn. I looked away.

“For whatever I want.” I turned toward the window. Shit. I couldn’t keep engaging her. Not if I wanted to distance myself.

Once I’d averted my attention, she made no attempt to start a conversation again. Besides ordering a second cup of coffee for each of us—decaf for me, because clearly, she knew I only had two cups of regular a day—she was silent. Focused. It was strange, sitting beside her. I almost felt at ease. That was until the plane had taxied to the gate and the young asswipe in the suit across the row attempted to get her bag.

“I’ve got it.” The words were almost a snarl.

His eyes widened, and with his hands held up in front of him, he stepped away.

As I pulled her bag down and settled it on my shoulder, Wren cocked that thin brow at me. I ignored the look. What was so wrong with carrying her bag like any decent man would?

“Go.” I waved a hand toward the front of the plane.

She smirked. “If I wasn’t on my best professional behavior, I’d have to say that growl was hot AF, Daddy Wilson.”

My gut tightened, and my entire body buzzed with anticipation. Fuck. By now, my damn dick should have realized that I wasn’t going there. But the response was ingrained in me. As she spun, I couldn’t help but zero in on the perfect curve of her ass in those black pants. A groan worked its way up my throat, but I bit it back before it could escape. This was going to be a long two days.

“Thanks.”I smiled at the young guy behind the hotel desk.

“Text us if you need anything at all, Ms. Jacobs. Our virtual concierge service is top tier.” As he passed me the keys to the suite the auction house had reserved, his gaze slipped over my head to the hulk of a man glaring at pretty much everyone.

It didn’t matter that Tom Wilson was in jeans and had a baseball cap pulled low to obscure his face. The man couldn’t do low-profile. I didn’t know whether the concierge recognized him as the famous former baseball god he was or the coach of the Boston Revs, but it didn’t matter. Tom’s presence was bigger than his reputation.

And the tight T-shirt didn’t help.

My stomach flipped as I took in the muscles barely hidden by gray fabric. It was unfair, a man of his age with shoulders and pecs of stone. Not an inch of his body had aged in all the years I’d known him. It was difficult to believe he was in his late forties. Hardly a wrinkle pulled at the skin around his bright blue eyes, and the light brown hair that peeked out from beneath his Boston Bolts cap was barely flecked with gray. I swore the man had single-handedly learned the secret of how not to age. The rest of the world changed, grew older, yet he stayed forever young.

But I’d been crushing on Tom Wilson since the time I’d understoodwhat it was to have a crush. At one of the Rev’s player’s wife’s birthday party last month, I’d enjoyed the hell out of wiggling my way past his steel will to get a reaction out of the rigid man. And I swore, that night at Zara’s party, was one of those times he saw me for the woman I was and not the girl I used to be.

Excitement tingled through my stomach. There had been times over the last two years that I could have sworn Daddy Wilson was looking at me. When I thought that maybe the growls he fired my way weren’t brought on by annoyance but attraction. I’d never been certain until this moment.

“Are you not freezing?”

With the way he was looking at me, I felt anything but cold.

His attention heated me through, and not only did it have my lips lifting into a smile, but it made my confidence soar.

“Don’t you know the expression beauty knows no pain, Daddy Wilson?”

His frown deepened, but as his eyes lifted to mine, the spark of interest still burned bright.

“Mr. Wilson.” Although it was his typical response, this time, I thought the reminder of who he was supposed to be wasn’t for my benefit.

Typically, this was when I’d give up. When I’d give into the box he’d locked me in. But I was already a drink in, so between the liquid courage and the certainty that this buzz I felt around him wasn’t totally one-sided, I pushed my luck.

“Okay, Mr. Wilson. You can buy me a drink for trying to kill my vibe.”

I latched on to his arm to pull him toward the bar. The second my hand touched his exposed skin, the air went from that tingle of attraction to heavy with something more.

His corded forearm bunched, but otherwise, he was frozen. When I looked up to his face, he was fixated on the place where our bodies were connected. Slowly, he dragged his gaze up my arm, and when he paused at the neckline of my strapless black dress, I fought the shiver that tried to race down my spine. There was no stopping the pounding in my chest, though. And it only increased when he continued up my neck to my mouth. With his teeth pressed into his bottom lip, he shifted a bit closer.

Holy shit. My best friend’s father was about to kiss me.

The idea burned through my system like wildfire.

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