Page 107 of Silver-Tongued Devil
Blake put a hand over his face and groaned. “No. Just no.”
“You’re not a woman,” Eric said. “You don’t count.” He asked Dakota, “Don’t you think?”
“Sorry,” she said, trying not to laugh. “But if it were me? I’d be thinking, ‘Kill me now. Just kill me now.’ And then running. But then, I’m not… ah… attracted to football players.”
“Excuse me?” Blake asked.
Eric ignored him. “Oh.” He looked crestfallen for a minute, then said, “Well, at least I didn’t waste my money.”
Pretty much the best night ever.
There was only one tiny hitch. When the crowd finally headed outside into the lingering twilight for the fireworks display over the lake, she took advantage of the moment to hold Blake back and say quietly, “I should probably wait to tell you this, but I’m going to be raining on your parade later tonight. You know that issue we had last week? It’s not an issue.”
He looked confused, and she pulled his head down and whispered in his ear, “Condom. Or not. I’m not pregnant.”
“Oh,” he said, and that was all.
She didn’t say anything else. She wasn’t about to tell him about the unexpected wave of disappointment she’d felt. She’d tried to pass it off to herself as regret for wrecking his big night, but she couldn’t fool her heart. Her heart… it wanted so many things. Freedom and adventure and fun andglass. But it also wanted Blake. And Blake’s baby.
Stupid heart.
She shoved her heart aside and said, “I went to the doctor, and you don’t have to worry about that anymore. Meanwhile, the timing could be better. Sorry I’m out of commission.”
“Aw, no, honey.” He wasn’t bothering to whisper. “Not unless you want to be. Not if it’s up to me.”
If she’d been the blushing type, she’d have been doing it. She couldn’t swear it wasn’t happening, and she was revealing enough skin to show every inch of it. “You don’t want that.”
His eyes were lighting up again, and he had an arm around her waist. “I’m a football player, baby. It’d take more than that to put me off. That’s nothing a towel and a sense of humor can’t fix. There’s nothing in this world outside of a ‘no’ that’s going to put me off you tonight.”
“You’re not getting a ‘no.’” She had to be blushing now, and she couldn’t help it. It was the look in his eyes. He got her every time. And whatever happened after tonight, tonight was good. Tonight was perfect.
He seemed to feel the same way, because he sighed. “I knew this was going to be a good night.” His hand drifted down a little until it was resting just above the curve of her bottom, and then it stopped. “We’re watching these fireworks, because I’ve got no choice. And then we’re going home, and I’m locking the bedroom door, laying you down, and taking everything off of you except those earrings. And I can’t wait.”
They did go outside, and Blake was surrounded again. The fireworks show started, and it was spectacular, but what Dakota felt, through every thunderous explosion, was Blake’s hand around her waist and the diamonds in her ears. And what she saw through every shower of stars was the look in his eyes when he’d given them to her.
She felt the moment it changed, too. When his arm stiffened around her and his hand went to his pocket and pulled out his phone.
Something was wrong. He was turning, shoving the phone back in his pocket, starting to push his way through the crowd. And she followed him.
It was all just fine until Blake got the call. The fireworks, the crowd, the lake. And Dakota beside him. And then his phone buzzed in his pocket.
“Hello?”
He had to press it hard against his ear to hear. “This is Logan Mansfield. I’m over at the northeast end of the property. You said to let you know if we spotted Jerry Richards around, and I think I just did. Saw him going around the corner of the building.”
“You sure?” Blake was already turning. He’d given those orders a long time ago. He hadn’t expected his former chief of security to turn up tonight.
Or maybe he had. He'd expectedsomethingto happen. But his money had never been on Jerry. It still wasn’t.
Logan said, “Not a hundred percent. He's wearing a ball cap. I could swear I recognize his walk, though. Hang on.”
Silence on the other end, then, at least Blake thought so. It was too hard to hear. The fireworks were going off, the crowd oohing and ahhing. Laughter and cheers and shouts. He was pushing through the tight knots of spectators with his free hand, trying to get out of it and call Walt, his new chief of security, when he thought he heard something.
“Hey.” It was a shout from the phone. “What are you doing? You can’t—” That was all. And Blake was almost through the crowd.
He’d cut through the building and call on the way, he decided. He shoved through another knot of people, and there in front of him, blocking his path, was Steve Sawyer. Not with his wife now, but with a bunch of good ol’ boys. His posse, probably the same guys he’d been hanging around with all his life.
“Leaving your own party?” Sawyer asked.
