Sure Shot (Brooklyn #4)(71)

“I like the new rug and the pillows,” I say, noticing them for the first time.

“Yeah, me too. Becca picked them out. She made me buy them. My toenails are Brooklyn Bruisers purple right now, because Rebecca redecorated my feet as well.”

“What a handy friend,” I say, pulling Bess into my lap. “Tell me again why you chose this apartment.”

“The commute. Duh.” She loops an arm around my neck, and now I have everything.

“The commute rocks,” I agree. “But I have a theory about you and this place. About why you chose a cheap walk-up with no doorman.”

“A theory? You think I’m afraid of doormen? Or their shiny gold buttons?”

I shake my head. “I listen to the calls you have with players. You’re always telling them to work hard and dream big.”

“Uh-huh. That’s, like, day one at agent school.”

“But I don’t know if you do the same thing for yourself. You’ve definitely got the hard work part down. Nobody works harder than you.”

She runs a hand through my hair. “Thank you. That’s a nice thing to say.”

“It’s true, though. I just wonder why the dream big part is so hard for you. You got an apartment that’s good enough, but not great. You fly coach. You buy cheap wine, even though you could afford the nicer stuff.”

“I’m not a connoisseur,” she sniffs. “Expensive wine would be wasted on me.”

“No,” I argue, tracing a path across her nose, where there’s a light smattering of freckles. “You spend a lot of energy making sure your athletes get all the best things in life. But you deserve those things, too, you know. I’m a simple guy. I like hockey and Tex-Mex. But I want to treat you to another dinner at Sparks, okay? Soon. Just the two of us.”

“Okay,” she whispers, and her smile wobbles. “That’s a lovely idea.”

“If we’re going to be together, let’s enjoy it. Let’s have fun. No holding back. When I got on a plane to New York, I didn’t expect to find you here. And maybe I could have handled everything better. But I love you, and I want you to know that you deserve the world.”

“Tank.” Bess blinks. Her eyes look a little red. “Wow. That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“Can you forgive me for not explaining why I freaked out before?”

“Yes.” She gives me a watery smile. “I already have.” She tucks her cheek onto my shoulder and sighs.

We stay here a while in silence. And I feel more peace than I have in weeks.

Eventually, Bess speaks up again. “L.A. Is playing Vegas right now. Want to watch some hockey? That’s what I was going to do before you showed up.”

I wrap my arms around her and then stand up quickly. Bess squeaks with surprise. “That’s not what we’re doing.”

“No? Why.”

“Because I’ve got something better for you to do, if you catch my drift.”





I take Bess right to bed, because I can’t wait any longer. I peel off her clothing and kiss her everywhere until she’s whimpering and begging, and I’m shaking with need. When I take myself in hand and nudge her knees apart, I feel pure gratitude as I slide home. Her tight body grips me, and she makes a low sound of satisfaction.

My body flashes with heat as I begin the age-old dance. Bess has no idea how she freed me from the mind-fuck that sex had become for me. “I love you,” I whisper as her heels dig into my ass. She lets out a keening moan and wraps her arms around me. “I love you,” I repeat as I immediately pick up the pace.

“Oh, Tank… me too.” Bess sighs.

I smile as I sink into our kiss, because I already know she loves me. I already knew, even as I tried to leave her. “I love you,” I murmur as I slow my strokes to try to delay my gratification. Bess isn’t having it, though. She arches her back and takes me deeper. She doesn’t want to let go. Neither do I.

“Love you…so much,” she gasps as her body grips me tightly. She takes one more deep breath and shivers as she comes.





“Do you want me to go back on the pill?” she asks much later.

We’re curled up together after several rounds of lovemaking. We’re having the kind of soul-bearing conversation you can only have at midnight in the pitch dark, naked and sated and raw.

“You have to make that call yourself,” I tell her. “It’s your body. You should do whatever makes you comfortable. I can use condoms if you’d like. You probably thought I was an idiot for never thinking about them before.”

“I thought you were so used to married sex that you didn’t remember what it was like to be single. And I knew I had us covered.”

“So used to married sex,” I repeat slowly. “Not in a good way. I stopped caring about sex.”

“Why?”

It isn’t easy to talk about this. But hiding my pain from Bess has only caused us more of it. “At one point I asked the team doctor for Viagra.”

“What? No way.”

I run a finger across the swell of her breast. “And after the third round of failed IVF, she wanted to try naturally again. And the pressure really got to me. If it was day fourteen, I’d get psyched out.”