Play Date (Play Makers Book 3) (2 page)

“You want a drink?”

“I wouldn’t mind a martini. As long as you’ll eat my olive.”

He stared, wondering if she knew how dirty that sounded.

Then the cab company came back on the line, saying, “How can we help you?”

“Your driver took off with my friend’s purse,” he explained. “You just dropped her off at the Bristol Inn.”

“Oh, right, we heard. The blonde. Our driver can circle back and meet you in the parking lot. Anything else?”

“No, we’re good.” He ended the call, then explained, “They’ll be here in a few minutes. I’ll get your drink—”

“Wait, Sean.” She swayed against him. “Let’s go outside, please? So I can thank you while we wait. Unless you’d rather not,” she added, sliding a mischievous hand down his torso until she was stroking his responsive alter ego. “But it seems like you want to.”

“Yeah.” He couldn’t manage another word, but words didn’t seem necessary, and since he had already paid his tab plus tip, he planted his hand on her backside and guided her toward the exit.

A small beacon of sense still flashed in his brain, warning him this was the coach’s sister-in-law, but he didn’t care. He had lusted for Kerrie for so long, and the twin looked so much like her. Felt just liked he’d imagined her feeling. And as a bonus, was unmarried and hot for sex. And so as soon as they burst out of the bar, he pulled her alongside the building, then behind a Dumpster, and kissed her hungrily.

She went wild, going for his goods again, but this time inside his pants. “I had condoms in my purse,” she told him breathlessly. “But they’re in the taxi.”

“We’re good,” he promised, fishing one out of his jacket pocket. Then he explained with a husky chuckle, “Emergency supplies.”

“Thank God.” She dropped to her knees, unzipped his fly, pleasured him with her mouth for a few moments, then rolled the condom onto him and stood back up, kissing him again while wrapping one leg around his waist.

“Damn, Kerrie,” he whispered, thrusting himself into her, only dimly aware that he had just said Kerrie, not Melody. To his relief, she didn’t seem to notice. Probably because she was shrieking softly, taking off in record time as he continued to enjoy her. Continued to call her Kerrie. It didn’t seem to matter. She just kept coming and coming and coming, and finally, so did he.

“Fuck,” he whispered, honestly impressed.

“I know. It was perfect.” She gave a blissful sigh. “I always knew you’d be this way, Sean. I always watched you, and I always knew.”

“Yeah?” He wanted to know more. Watched him when? For how long? Was it possible he’d been lusting after the wrong sister all this time?

A horn honked from the direction of the parking lot and she gave him a quick kiss while straightening her dress. “I’ll get the purse. You stay here.” She hesitated, then asked, “You have a car, right?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a car.”

“We can go to your place? For more?”

“Yeah.” He caught her by the waist as she started toward the cab. “Hey, Melody, wait. I know you heard me call you Kerrie. And I’m really sorry. You’re amazing, and it was just—well, my bad.”

She pulled free and stared, her expression blank. Then she asked in a whisper, “You think I’m Melody?”

“Huh?”

“Oh, Sean . . .” Her lower lip quivered. “How
could
you?”

“Wait!” He reached for her as she backed away, but her tearful glare warned him to stop. Then she ran for the cab while he just stared after her, knowing he should do more. Say more. Go after her and beg forgiveness. But he was frozen in place by one simple, unbelievable realization.

He had just had sex with his coach’s wife.

Chapter 2

“Thanks again for coming at the last minute,” Sean told Rachel Gillette as she expertly tied his bow tie in her suite at the Ashton Hotel. “We’ll have fun once my duties as best man are out of the way.”

“You mean your duties as
one
of the best men,” she corrected him with an arched eyebrow.

“You really don’t like that idea, do you?”

“It’s crazy. This whole wedding is crazy.” Her denim blue eyes twinkled. “But I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Taking a step back, she surveyed her handiwork. “You’re so adorable, Sean. They should put a figurine of
you
on the wedding cake.”

Since she was looking him up and down, he took a minute to do the same to her. Even in her modest bathrobe she was a stunner. Tall and graceful with a demeanor that practically produced its own aura. It still shocked him he’d had the nerve to call her the day before the wedding and beg her to fly up to Portland and be his date. He hadn’t planned it, but after that literal screw-up in the parking lot with his coach’s wife, he had needed to re-set his thermostat fast.

Don’t think about Kerrie,
he warned himself, but it was too late. He hadn’t been able to forget it. Forget her. He had hurt her feelings. Worse, he had put his career in jeopardy. Not that she would rat him out. They had shared a special connection, hadn’t they? Plus, she seemed so sweet, so innocent. Even when she was rolling that condom on him—

“Sean?” Rachel murmured. “What are you thinking about?”

“Oh, sorry. My mind just—well, there are a ton of details.”

“You should be downstairs already. The ceremony starts in thirty minutes, and you need to be up front before the bride makes her entrance.”

“She isn’t making an entrance. We’re all gonna be onstage together from the beginning.”

“Hmm?”

He chuckled at her subtle displeasure. The quintessential kindergarten teacher. Always at equilibrium, always measured, diligently keeping things proper and aboveboard.

So he assured her, “We’ll be behind a curtain. Once the audience is seated, the curtain opens and, trust me, you’ll be impressed. Erica poured her heart into this and she’s mega-talented.”

“I’m starting to think
you
should have married her,” Rachel said, her smile teasing him. “Is the other best man in love with her too?”

“Rachel—”

“I’m kidding. Go on. She’s probably panicking. And the groom might need moral support, right? We don’t want him backing out.”

“John never gets cold feet. Especially about Erica. So get dressed and we can make our entrance together.”

“I need another fifteen minutes,” she protested. “But I could give you a preview if you want. Just remember, I only had four hours to shop.” She exhaled slowly, as though summoning her courage, then dashed to the bedroom.

Sean watched her in quiet amazement. Was she actually nervous? A killer babe like that? Then he remembered why she might have reason to feel insecure. She had been scheduled for a blind date with the groom but he had canceled due to his engagement to Erica. Was it possible she took that personally?

It probably hadn’t helped matters when Sean had been brought in as a replacement date, and then
he
had proven to be a dud as well. Hopefully he’d change that before the night was over.

• • •

After wriggling into the fancy party dress she really couldn’t afford, Rachel Gillette ordered herself to snip the price tag off, then stepped to a full-length mirror in the glamorous bathroom of her ultra-glamorous suite. Luckily, her date had paid for these accommodations as well as her other travel costs.

Her date, a.k.a. Sean Decker—the biggest disappointment of the year. Which was saying a lot, since Johnny Spurling had done his best to clinch that title. But Johnny at least had had the decency to dump her
before
he met her. Sean had met her, wined and dined her, and then basically dozed off.

Wasn’t that why she had blown two weeks’ take-home pay on this shimmery, salmon-toned halter dress? It was sophisticated but also daring with its long, contour-hugging skirt and generous slit up one side.

She wanted to look like a million dollars.

Or at least the fourteen hundred plus tax she had splurged on it.

All to impress two guys, both of whom were apparently in love with Erica McCall. Not that Rachel was jealous. More frustrated than anything else. And so, among her many motives for accepting an invitation to the wedding of Johnny and Erica was her desire to set eyes on the seemingly irresistible bride.

Slipping her feet into silver high-heeled sandals, she reminded herself Sean needed to get down to the ballroom and join the wedding entourage. There would be time to brush her hair and tweak her makeup once he was gone. So she hurried back to the living area then had to smile at her date.

Such a hunk. Lean and ripped, with the world’s most gorgeous green eyes and an easygoing manner that charmed her even when she was sure she should feel offended. Which was most of the time with this guy.

“Sean?”

He turned to her, then literally gaped. “Wow.”

“Thanks.”

“You look like a mermaid.”

“Oh,
no.”

“It’s a good thing.” He stepped up to her, resting his hands on her hips. “Trust me, Rachel. It’s good.”

She moistened her lips, uncertain even though she had promised herself she would go with whatever he threw at her. There was a nice buzz between them, wasn’t there? And at this point in her lackluster dating career, she couldn’t afford to be choosy.

Then his cell phone rang—a lilting cascade of bells—and he explained apologetically, “That’s Erica’s ringtone. I’ve gotta take it.”

Rachel laughed, mostly at herself.

The final humiliation.

Sean spoke into the phone in hushed tones. “I know, I know. Yeah, it’s unbelievable. I’ll rescue you, I promise.”

Ending the call, he stated the obvious. “We need to get down there.”

“You’re going to rescue the bride? From the groom?”

“No. From your friend Beth.”

“What? Oh?” She laughed, understanding that Beth Spurling must be trying to wrench control of the wedding from future sister-in-law Erica. For Erica’s own good, of course. Beth was married to the groom’s brother, and because of that link, coupled with a tornado-like personality, believed she was in charge of all things Spurling. It was Beth who had set up Rachel’s blind date with Johnny, followed by the blind date with Sean. And while Rachel had welcomed the assistance, she had known that if one of those dates led to a relationship, Beth would micro-manage it through courtship, wedding, childbirth and quite possibly divorce.

“You’d better run, Sean. I love Bethie, but she’s scary.”

“Yeah, my buddy Bam calls her the Drill Sergeant.” He chuckled. “Erica’s pretty tough, but Beth’s tougher.”

“Then go. I need to fix my hair and my face. I’ll be there in time to get a good seat, I promise.”

“You look great already.” He pulled her close again. “I wish I could sit with you. But don’t be shy, okay? Grab a chair up front. And be sure to get a goody bag. Erica worked hard on them. It’s romantic,” he added wistfully. “Each guest gets an orange. I’ll tell you why later. Plus, everyone gets a bottle opener that plays the Cal fight song, since that’s where John and Erica went to school. And there’s a thumb drive with the on-air marriage proposal and the beer commercial they did together. You’ll like it.”

“Explain the orange now.”

“Later,” he repeated. “When we’re naked.”

“Won’t Erica mind?” she drawled.

Sean seemed startled. “Is that a joke?”

“I think so. With us, I’m never sure.”

He must have liked that answer because he gave her a warm kiss on the mouth. “There are two hundred guests and two hundred chairs. So get down there fast or you’ll get stuck in the back row.”

She smiled as he headed toward the door. Then he surprised her again by turning and saying solemnly, “This is gonna be our night, Rachel. I promise.”

• • •

Since the wedding was in the hotel, Rachel left her cell phone and wallet behind, opting for a tiny beaded purse on a satin shoulder strap. It accommodated the key card for her room, her “cheat sheet” of names for the wedding party, a powder compact and some tissues for the inevitable weeping. She pictured herself in the third row. Maybe the fourth. She would give Beth and Jason Spurling encouraging smiles; would drool a little over Sean, because despite his faults he was sinfully gorgeous; and would enjoy this peek at the bride and groom.

As she rode the elevator to the ballroom on the mezzanine, she remembered Johnny Spurling’s phone call to her a few days before the Super Bowl. His deep, masculine baritone had been sexy, his words sweet and apologetic, as he explained how much he had been looking forward to their blind date, but he had met someone. A woman named Erica. And in a role reversal of epic proportions,
she
had swept
him
off his feet.

Enchanted, Rachel had assured him she wished him the best. She had also promised to keep the phone call a secret, since he hadn’t hinted to Erica that he would be proposing during the game, and more important, hadn’t yet told his sister-in-law Beth he was breaking the blind date. Rachel could still remember how even the confident quarterback seemed vaguely terrified of his brother’s wife.

Completely understandable,
Rachel had assured him.
She’s scary, but only out of love
.

Johnny had laughed, thanked her for being a sport, and hung up. Several days later, Rachel had DVR’d the Super Bowl, playing it in the background while she did her housework so she could catch the proposal. She had wished she could wrangle an invitation to the wedding, just so she could eyeball Johnny and his Erica.

Now here she was.

Unfortunately, as she stepped off the elevator, she sensed trouble in paradise. Unless ushers were forcing guests to line up outside the ballroom doors, it appeared the facility was already overflowing.

What had Sean said? Two hundred guests, two hundred chairs?

There were at least two hundred laughing, half-drunk football hunks in the hallway alone.

These latecomers had no prayer of getting a seat. On the other hand, Rachel knew
she
could easily thread through this crowd, since she was kryptonite to strange men. Always had been, always would be. And while it usually bothered her, it came in handy at times like this.