Page 30 of Diamonds & Deception

I hide my grin and pretend not to understand the reason for her reaction. “Softball. What position?”

“Oh.” Her cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink. “Third base. And I pitched a little.”

“The Sox are in town and playing this afternoon. Interested in going?”

“Really?”

“Why so surprised?” I finish my omelet and push my plate to the side so I can rest my elbows on the table, manners be damned. I want to be closer to Nora.

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “You work a lot. The self-proclaimed math geek you talk about. I didn’t figure you for a sports guy.”

I clutch at my heart. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t hurt my man card.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“I’m kidding. Yeah, I love numbers, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like sports. In fact, baseball is one of the most mathematical sports there is. It’s all about numbers, statistics, percentages. Honestly, I wasn’t an athletic kid growing up, but my AP Stats teacher in high school had us do a project where we followed a baseball team and made predictions based on their stats. It’s what got me interested in the sport.”

“That’s cool. Do you go to a lot of games?”

“This will be my first since college.”

“For real? Fenway is practically in your backyard as well. Why haven’t you gone?”

“When I moved to the city two years ago, my focus was on... work.”

Eventually, I’m going to have to come clean and tell her more about who I am. I don’t really care about keeping it a secret anymore. If I thought Nora was the type of woman to go after a man because of the size of his bank account, I wouldn’t be here with her.

“As you mentioned before, I’m a little too work-focused. I don’t get out much. I haven’t wanted to.” I reach across the table and caress the back of her hand.

She flips her hand over and threads her fingers through mine. We stare at each other, the sexual chemistry thick between us. The game doesn’t start for two hours. There’s time to go back to her apartment and bring her to orgasm, but I won’t.

“Ready?” I put my napkin next to my plate and stand, dropping more than enough bills to cover our meal. I take her hand in mine, and we leave the diner, turning toward the park.

“Do you think they’ll still have tickets for today’s game?”

The crowd is already gathering around the green monster. “I already bought them.” I pat my pocket.

“What if I said I didn’t want to go?” She hip-checks me.

“Then we wouldn’t.”

“Really? But you already bought tickets.”

“We’d find something else to do. Come here.” I pull her toward a street vendor selling Red Sox gear. “We need to dress the part.”

I take down two baseball caps and put one on her head and the other on mine.

“Wow,” she says, staring up at me all starry-eyed.

“What?”

“I thought you were a stud when I saw you in the park. You’re sex on a stick in your suits. But man. Wearing a baseball hat?” She fans herself. “You’re freaking hot.”

“A stud? You thought I was a stud?”

“No.” She lifts her arms and adjusts my hat. “Notthought. Think.This hat, though. It makes you look...” She arches her back and lifts on her toes and kisses me.

The bills of our hat bump, so I turn mine backward and lean in to get a better angle on her lips. She keeps it brief, which is good. I can’t walk around the streets of Boston with a raging hard-on in my jeans.

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