Page 17 of Play Action Pass

“I’m glad you came here,” Mallory said. “I’m glad to know what happened. I can lay him to rest in my mind.”

Emmie thought for a moment. “I came here to Anchorridge Cove to be closer to him. If you’d like to come with me, I think I found the perfect place to scatter his ashes.”

“I’d like that.”

Emmie smiled and stood. “All right. I’ll get everything set up and tell you when as soon as I can.”

“Thank you, Emmie.”

“You’re welcome.”

****

When Crew took his early morning jog, he noticed that Emmie wasn’t sitting in the deck chair. He quite liked having her watch him as she sipped her coffee. Sunlight shimmered on top of the waves and a cool breeze slid over his heated muscles. Dawn had only risen about twenty minutes earlier, casting long shadows on the sand.

He liked Anchorridge Cove. Nobody noticed him and the press hadn’t found where he’d gone. The publicist for the Archers team reported he was snorkeling in the Maldives, so no one suspected he was in Maine. It was a fantastic fake play.

When he finally made it back to his cottage, which had been booked under a pseudonym, he made a beeline to the bathroom for a nice, hot shower. He wrapped a towel around his hips just as the doorbell chimed. He had a feeling he knew who was there, and with a wicked grin went to the door.

“Who is it?” he called out.

“It’s Emmie,” she replied.

He unlocked the door and opened it, and Emmie’s expressive eyes widened as she took in his near-naked state.

She gulped “Y-you’re naked.”

“Not entirely.”

“That’s a real small, um, towel.”

“It’s the only thing that’s small.” He winked, and her face flushed scarlet.

“Perhaps I should come back—”

Before she could finish that thought, he gently gripped her wrist and pulled her inside, closing the door behind her. He grinned when she kept her gaze upward. He couldn’t resist teasing.

“Wanna help me pick out some clothes? And help put this towel away?”

Her mouth dropped open. “Uh. Sure.”

Her response surprised him. Crew took a step closer and rested his hands on her shoulders. Damn. His heart rate sped up like an Indianapolis Five Hundred racer. Resting his hands on her shoulders, he slowly pulled her into his body, giving her enough time to move away or resist if she didn’t want to kiss him. She did neither. Instead, she licked her lips and he was a goner.

He captured her lips, swiping his tongue across them, demanding they part. Hot. Wet. Sinful. It consumed him, and he wondered how this small slip of a woman overpowered every memory of anyone else. The years of women he’d enjoyed, thejersey chasers, simply vanished from his mind. It now focused only on her, Emmie, and he didn’t even know her last name. Knew nothing about her, but suddenly,somehowshe’d stolen his attention.

Wrapping a hand around the nape of her neck, he kissed her like there was no tomorrow. Like his life depended on it. She took and gave back in equal parts of pleasure and desperation that coursed through his body. As they broke for air, he rested his forehead against hers.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered.

“Ditto.”

He chuckled. “Hopefully, by the time I dress, this damn hard-on deflates.”

“Sorry, not sorry.”

“Brat,” he said and kissed the top of her head. He turned to go back into his bedroom, grimacing as he adjusted himself. He grabbed some jeans and a t-shirt, dressing quickly, and picked up his baseball cap before rejoining her.

“The owner of the ice cream parlor called me and I went to see her this morning.”

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