Kickin' It (Red Card #2)(38)

“No.” She rose up on her tiptoes and brushed a soft kiss across my lips. “Real men kiss like that.”

I almost grabbed her wrist.

I almost tugged her against me and begged her to let me into her room.

There were so many almosts that hung in the balance between right and wrong.

So I let her go.

I watched the sway of her hips as she walked off.

And I sent a fucking text to Slade when I couldn’t fall asleep.

Me: I’m fucked.

Slade: Yeah, you are.

Me: WTH? Why aren’t you on my side?

Slade: We’re talking about Parker, right? About the way Jagger says you watch her? About the only girl you’ve ever trained? Tread carefully, my friend.

Me: We kissed.

Slade: Uh . . .

Me: Never mind. Can you put together a night out for everyone this next weekend when training’s over for her? A celebration of sorts?

Slade: No, but Mack would love to. You know how she is.



I smiled down at my phone. Yeah, his wife was one of my favorite people. I liked her even more than Slade, and that was saying a lot—the guy was my best friend.

Slade: Crying into a bottle of wine yet? Breaking shit?

Me: Not yet.

Slade: Hah, yeah give it time.

Me: That wasn’t at all helpful.

Slade: Get some sleep, you’ll need it.



I set my phone down and then stared at the blank screen and wondered how I was even going to treat her normally without wanting more from her.

Yeah, the next week of training was going to be a nightmare, wasn’t it?





Chapter Nineteen PARKER

I spent the flight trying not to steal glances at Matt while he worked on his computer. And then I spent even more time dissecting every little thing he did. Had the kiss been just to prove something? Was it more? Did it matter? I mean after confessing everything I’d confessed, I wouldn’t touch me with a ten-foot pole—make that twenty.

But we’d kissed.

And it had made every other kiss I’d ever had seem like practice before the big game. His lips had been so soft, demanding, yet, ugh. I should not be thinking about his lips while I was sitting next to him.

My knee started bouncing nervously.

Matt’s arm shot out and pressed it down.

I huffed. “Sorry.”

“Something on your mind?” he asked, not looking up from the computer screen.

I glared.

“Saw that.”

“You saw what?”

“You stuck your tongue out at me.” The corners of his mouth lifted into an amused smile as he kept typing. Tap, tap, tap. With each tap of his fingers my irritation rose until I wanted to shake him and say something stupid like, DO YOU LIKE ME?

I mean of course he tolerated me.

If I was being completely honest, I hadn’t expected him to respond to any sort of kiss from me, I had expected it to be a polite Chin up, or There, there, not all men are monsters.

Instead it was all passion, heat. It was something I wanted to explore; heck, I wanted to rip it open and bask in it.

And yet there he was, tapping away!

Our plane had been delayed, which meant we weren’t getting home until later, which also meant I was a day behind in training, but the sleep would be welcome.

When Matt didn’t say anything else, I put on my headphones, crossed my arms, and pretended to sleep. Mature, but I had no other option.

And then I did actually fall asleep because the plane landing jolted me forward. Matt grabbed my hand.

I tore off my headphones. “We’re home? Already?”

His smile was bright, and might I even say a bit arrogant as he looked his fill. “Yeah, Cheetah Girl, we’re home.”

I shook my head at him. “Should have never told you that name.”

“One day you may have to show me more of those moves.”

“Think you could handle it? Maybe I’ll rent you a cane just in case.” I winked.

He glowered. “I’m not . . . old.”

“Do you get a senior discount yet?”

“Do you want to walk home?”

I stared down at our still-joined hands. “Do you promise to hold my hand the whole way?”

He opened his mouth and shut it as I clung to him. And I smiled in womanly satisfaction when we exited the airplane.

Still holding hands.



The house looked dark as Matt pulled the car into the open garage. I yawned behind my hand as he killed the engine. My legs felt like I’d done nothing but run all day, that’s what travel always did to me. I wanted my own bed, a shower.

I froze.

Since when was the guest room my bed? Why did it feel more like home than any place I’d ever lived?

I frowned as Matt grabbed my duffel along with his bag and opened the door to the house for me.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, not meeting his eyes as I walked in and flipped on the living room lights. “Oh, shit!”

Jagger stood there with nothing but a smile, and a pillow covering himself.

“What the hell!” Matt roared. “How do you even have a key? Did Willow let you in? Wait.” Matt’s jaw started ticking. “Where is Willow?”

“Baby, I’m ready for you!” Willow came bouncing into the room wearing nothing but black thigh-highs and a matching corset and clutching a can of whipped cream in her right hand. “Matt! I thought your flight was delayed?” She hid the whipped cream. I almost slapped my own face. Too late, bestie, too late.