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CHAPTER THREE

SILAS

“Can I walk you to the train?” I asked Rachel after we headed out of the restaurant.

“It’s not necessary, and you said you had an early day tomorrow.” She shook her head as she shrugged on her jacket, and I fought to keep my gaze at eye level and not let it travel down her curves and fixate on the tease of cleavage as she straightened her top, or the perfect curve of her hips as she smoothed her jacket down.

She was beautiful, funny, and from what she’d told me about her life outside of writing romance books, pretty damn selfless to give up her freedom for her sister. Shame washed over me at how I’d thrown myself a monthslong pity party over the twists and turns my life had taken recently when, looking back, I didn’t have much to complain about.

I’d had an amazing career and the full support of my family. My only sibling hadn’t ever wanted much to do with me, but I never had to worry about my parents not showing up when I needed them.

Rage rushed through me for a woman I’d just met when I thought of all she’d probably had to go through as a kid.

We’d had easy conversation through dinner but never mentioned any specifics, like what my old job was or where I’d be working now. Only die-hard baseball fans would recognize me out of uniform here, and I liked just being a guy moving to New York for a new job to Rachel. Once she knew who I really was—and who I was about to be—things would get complicated, and the superficial bubble we’d enjoyed tonight would pop.

Not that we could do anything about it anyway. I was still a guy on the road for seven months out of the year, and Rachel couldn’t drop everything to meet me wherever I happened to be or when I came back into town.

My ex-wife had never met me on the road, but I couldn’t fault her for that when I was hardly present even when I was home. A career in sports wasn’t conducive to commitment, at least not for me.

But Rachel wasn’t expecting anything from me, not even a walk to the subway. I shouldn’t have been worried about all the ways I’d disappoint her if I asked for another dinner or meeting or even for her phone number.

But I wasn’t ready to let her go just yet. We could keep it simple for another hour or two before she became a sweet memory.

“You said your sister was at someone’s house for the night, right? Feel like getting a cup of coffee before you head back?”

She pursed her lips as she stepped closer.

“I try not to get on the subway too late, and I didn’t expect dinner to go that long,” she said, smiling as she nodded to the restaurant behind us.

I hadn’t expected dinner to go that long either. We’d spent hours just talking, forgetting about the empty plates and glasses in front of us.

“I’m happy to pay for a cab to get you home. I’ll even let you treat me.” I gave her an exaggerated grimace, rubbing my side. “You know, to make it up to me.”

She glowered at me, letting go of the most adorable groan.

“Bad enough you wouldn’t let me pay tonight. Now you’re guilting me into a cup of coffee.”

“Is it working?” I stepped closer, quirking a brow.

She exhaled a long gust of air and chuckled.

“You’re the only man I’ve ever met who can do that,” she said, pointing a finger at my face.

“What?”

“You can lift just one brow. I write that move all the time, but you’re the first one I’ve ever known who can pull it off.”

“Is that so?” I said, a smile racing across my mouth when I spotted hers.

“Even with a little swagger too.” She laughed, shaking her head. “If you’re up for a walk, there is a good coffee place by the water near Domino Park. It’s about twenty minutes from here, but it’s worth it. The bridge is pretty at night.”

“That sounds fine to me.” I tipped my chin toward the street. “You can lead the way.”

“Sure, why not,” she whispered as she stepped in front of me.

“How far is your place from here?” I asked as we strolled along the sidewalks and some cobblestoned blocks.

“Not too far. I live in Park Slope. It’s a nice family neighborhood. The brownstone belonged to my grandmother, and she left it to me when she passed away. It was a godsend not to have to pay for anything past utilities, or else we would have been out on the street after she was gone.”

“You both lived with her?” I asked. “You and your sister, I mean.”

“No, just my mother and me. This was pre-Taylor. I wish my sister had known our grandmother.” She exhaled a long breath. “I’m basically the only responsible parent she’s ever known.”

More shame gnawed at my gut as I remembered our old house in the Bronx and the one we’d lived in when my parents moved us out of the city. All I’d had to worry about was what time to be at practice, not if I would have a place to live.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

The closer we came to the water, the more the wind picked up. Twenty minutes went by quickly as we talked about everything and nothing—managing to avoid anything too personal or details that we could look up later, which I couldn’t, despite the already crippling temptation to continue whatever we were starting now.

It was a warmer than usual March day, but as the sun set, the chill in the air was a big reminder that it was still winter, despite the men in shorts we passed as we entered the tiny coffee shop.

“Everyone has something, right?” She glanced over at me, a sweet smile curving the pretty mouth I hadn’t been able to look away from all damn night. “My sister and I are doing okay. My grandmother gave me a sense of security growing up, so I try to do the same for Taylor.”

“What’s she like?” I asked. The small shop was crowded, all the chairs and tables taken as we stepped into a long line. I didn’t mind the wait, as my time with this woman was dwindling. I wanted to know as much as I could about her until it ended.

“My sister?” She scrunched up her nose as she turned to me. “She’s a young thirteen, meaning that she hasn’t gotten rid of all her stuffed animals yet. Although they call them plushies now so it sounds cooler.” A wistful smile curved her lips. “She’s a good kid. A little sensitive, which I worry about, but she has a nice little cluster of friends. She loves her namesake, and for her birthday, I gave her a Taylor’s Version neon sign for her room. Her name was the one good thing our mother gave her, I suppose.”

Her eyes came back to mine as the line inched forward.

“Why aren’t you close with your brother?”

“I tried, but since we were kids, he’s never liked me all that much.” I shrugged, stuffing my hands inside the pockets of my dress pants, when a sudden urge to hold Rachel’s hand made my fingertips tingle. I cleared my throat, not wanting to ponder what that was about. This whole night was weird yet too comfortable.

“He’s older,” I continued, “and he was smart enough to excel but didn’t want to be bothered. So, when I did?—”

“He was jealous,” Rachel finished for me.

I nodded, lifting a shoulder. Baseball had always been a huge part of my life and how I’d received a scholarship for college, but my brother had hated going to my games. I had always wished he could just be happy for me, but my parents had tried to assure me that the way he’d acted was because he wasn’t happy with himself. After we’d both moved out, I’d stopped trying to create a brotherly bond that was never there.

“I can’t see anyone not liking you.” She shook her head. “I mean, you’re kind and considerate enough to have dinner with the random woman who punched you and then ask her for coffee afterward. I really don’t think you’re some secret prick.”

I barked out a laugh. “I’d like to think I’m not, thank you.”

“His loss,” she whispered, with a beautiful smile that made it even harder not to reach out and touch her.

She motioned to the menu board behind the counter. “Get whatever you like. I order the oat milk hazelnut latte, and it always kills.” She shot me a wry grin. “My sister likes the chai. I limit her coffee, even though she insists all her friends drink espresso.” She gave me a playful eye roll.

“I did okay copying you at dinner. Get me the same. Please.”

“You got it. I’ll get you a large to alleviate some of my guilt from assaulting you then letting you buy me dinner.”

“You didn’t assault me. And I enjoyed your company at dinner. You were a very pleasant distraction.”

A blush stained her cheeks as she dropped her gaze to the checkered floor. I stayed behind her as she gave our order and dug into her purse. I caught the barista giving her a once-over as he filled our cups, glancing over his shoulder a few times as he fiddled with the steamed milk.

“Here you go,” he said, smiling wide until he caught my gaze over her shoulder. I had no claim to Rachel, other than being a very new acquaintance, and I most likely would never see her again after tonight, but I took a half step closer and leveled him with a glare sinister enough to make him dart his eyes away.

I wasn’t sure if she noticed my reaction or his, but I felt a satisfaction that made no sense when he sputtered out a have a good day and didn’t give her a second glance.

“Here you go,” Rachel said, the corner of her mouth tipping up as she handed me my paper cup. “Wouldn’t want you to scare another barista.”

I had to laugh. “You caught that?”

“He’s usually a little flirty when I come here, but something over my shoulder shut him down today.” She eyed me as she took a sip from her cup. “I’m assuming it was the big guy behind me, unless there was something by the door I didn’t notice.”

She pursed her lips and handed me a couple of napkins.

“He’s very harmless.” She shook her head as she stepped closer to the door. “Not that the alpha thing or whatever you were doing behind me wasn’t cute, but I can handle myself.”

“I’m sure you can,” I said, taking the cup and holding her eyes as I took a long sip. The entire night had been like that. Lingering, charged stares with moments of silence, but not awkward. In fact, our entire time together had been so easy, it felt like I’d known her for much more than a night.

“Then, what was the death glare or whatever you were doing behind me for?” She narrowed her eyes as she took a half step closer.

“I didn’t want anyone intruding on the hour or so I have left with you. You can scare him off yourself next time.” I reached behind her, still holding her gaze as my chest grazed hers for a second, close and long enough to catch her soft gasp.

“After you,” I said as I pushed the door open.

“We can find a bench and sit for a while. Are you cold?” She motioned to me. “You only have that thin jacket?”

“I’m fine. Lead the way.” I raised my cup toward the Williamsburg Bridge in the distance.

I’d played through all kinds of weather, especially at the beginning of the season and throughout the play-offs when the weather would turn frigid, depending on where we were playing. I’d keep moving during a game to ward off the cold, but tonight, the gorgeous woman next to me was keeping me warm.

And I needed to stop contemplating all the different ways I could heat her up. She wasn’t like the women I’d met after a game those few times after my divorce. They were okay with only one night since that’s what they’d wanted too, and I didn’t have to worry about either of us expecting more than that.

I had no idea what Rachel would want, but I had a nagging feeling I’d want more than one time since I was already making excuses not to tell her goodnight.

And that wasn’t possible.

“What is your new job going to be? I’m assuming it’s a big executive-type position,” Rachel said, holding up her hand. “You don’t have to say specifics if you don’t want, but just a feeling.”

“What makes you think that?” I asked as I settled next to her. “I give off an executive vibe?”

Her gaze traveled up and down my torso before she met my eyes with a smirk.

“You look dressed for the part, yes. Am I right?”

I had to laugh. “I don’t know if I’d call it executive, but it’s a big role. They’re all so happy to have me on board, which is good and bad.”

“Bad?” She crinkled her nose at me as she rested her cup on her thigh. “I’d think that would be a good thing if they’re excited to have you.”

“This job is new. I mean, it’s not all that different from what I was doing before, but enough to feel like I have to learn what the hell I’m doing once I’m there. All the travel is the same, but it’s not like I have anyone else to worry about at home.”

I shrugged as I let my gaze float over the ripples along the water. The sky was a dark blue behind the buildings, and the lights twinkling on the bridge reflecting off the East River made me feel very small in this big city, despite the spotlight that would be over my head starting tomorrow morning.

That feeling was why I didn’t want to tell Rachel exactly what my job was, yet I’d told her more about what I thought about it than I had to friends and family. It was something I felt I couldn’t share with anyone close to me or let show with my new team.

“I was good at my old job,” I continued. “I didn’t expect to have to leave it so soon. I was too old toward the end, and now I’m too green. So, I have a little whiplash from going from one extreme to the other, I suppose.”

I stretched my arm along the wooden bench, wide enough not to touch Rachel’s shoulders, but I still felt the tingle of having her next to me.

I’d done a quick calculation of her age when she’d told me her sister’s and how old she’d been when she was born. She looked younger than thirty-three yet seemed like an old soul, most likely from having to grow up faster than she should have.

Maybe that was why it had been so easy to talk to her, leaving out the identifiable parts of my job but confessing the deep feelings and reservations I couldn’t express to anyone else.

“You’ll get it.” Rachel shifted toward me. “I’ll bet you have it more than you think already. A good friend once told me that impostors don’t get impostor syndrome. You care a lot. I can tell. So, there’s no way you’ll fail.”

She smiled, turning her head as the wind kicked up and blew a piece of hair across her face.

“You probably know better than me, being a writer and all.” Before I could help it, I tucked that stray lock of hair behind her ear and let my thumb skate over her jaw.

“You know why I write romance?” Her voice creaked before she cleared her throat. “The happily-ever-after is all part of the formula. It’s a given in every single story. There are a million different things that could happen along the way, all kinds of roadblocks. And even though you know it’s going to work out because of what it is, you’re afraid it won’t. In the end, it always does, and we become the people we’re supposed to be.”

Her gaze fell to the ground.

“Sometimes, when life off the page gets complicated, I like to think of it as buildup, a little angst to keep it interesting and make the payoff that much better. Getting stuck or things becoming hard is all part of the journey, and it always resolves. Eventually. It’s silly, I know.” Her shoulders shook with a laugh. “But it helps.”

“Not silly at all,” I said in a hoarse whisper. “Smart. From you, I could actually believe that.”

My eyes fell to her mouth, fixated on the way she chewed her bottom lip, something I’d begun to suspect was a nervous tell.

“I’m very passionate about storytelling. Even when I don’t punch random men as they stroll by.”

A nervous laugh slipped from her lips, but her smile faded.

I inched toward her as she drew closer, both of us moving almost in slow motion yet so fast I couldn’t stop it if I wanted to.

And I absolutely didn’t want to, despite how much of a bad idea it probably was and how it would only make parting ways that much worse. Especially if this was all I’d ever be able to get.

I let the pull between us close the last of the distance, and I pressed my mouth against hers.

Her body relaxed as she melted against me, slipping her arms around my neck and running her fingers through my hair as her lips parted on a moan. A growl erupted from my throat as I slipped my tongue inside. She tasted like coffee and something so sweet, I couldn’t get enough. I swallowed her whimpers as she pushed into me, pressing her beautiful body against mine and grabbing the back of my neck as the kiss went deeper.

Nothing was sweet about this kiss, at least not after the first couple of minutes. Something caught fire between us as our mouths fused together, confusing me but fueling me as we kept going.

Before I realized it, my hand was in her hair as I slanted my mouth over hers. The kiss became something too frantic and too hot to be taking place on a public bench.

She’d give a soft moan whenever I’d try to pull back, and it made me want more and go in harder and deeper. I’d been right about wanting more once I had a taste—more of whatever had drawn me to her on sight, more of what I couldn’t have because I had nothing to offer her past tonight.

We broke apart at a whistle behind us, her eyes hooded and hazy as they met mine. My heart hammered against my rib cage, already fixated on her mouth again, wet and swollen from my kisses.

“Wow,” she whispered, dragging her fingers down her lips. “I…I didn’t expect that.”

“Shit,” I whispered, my stomach bottoming out. We’d gravitated toward each other like magnets, but I still should have asked before I just went for it. I wasn’t like that, and I hated the thought of being too forward and ruining things tonight.

“I’m sorry if I?—”

“Oh no, I liked it. A lot. Just didn’t expect it.” She laughed and dropped her head into her hands, peeking up at me as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

“I liked it too,” I whispered. “A lot. Listen, how would you feel about coming back to the hotel with me?”

Her head jerked toward me, her eyes wide.

“We could stay by the bar and talk, or you could come up to my room. I wouldn’t ask for more than talking if that’s all you want. I just don’t want the night to end yet. But if you do, I’m happy to pay for a cab to get you home?—”

“Silas, I can’t date,” she blurted out. “I mean, I can, but my priority is my sister. And anything more than that right now…” She trailed off, rubbing her eyelids.

“I get it. I can’t either. This job has me on the road a lot, like I said. My plate is full, and I can’t hurt anyone else— I mean, I can’t?—”

“I understand.” She pressed her hands against my chest. “But for tonight, I wouldn’t mind going back to the hotel with you. Easier to get a cab there anyway.” Rachel pushed off the bench, adjusting the strap of her messenger bag across her chest.

“Okay,” I said as I stood. “Like I said, we can just talk. I’m not looking for anything more than that.”

“What if…” she started, chewing on her bottom lip again. “What if I was looking for more? More for tonight, that is. No expectations past the next few hours. What would you say?”

My brows shot up as I leaned in, curling my hand around the nape of her neck as I brought her in for another kiss. Soft and light, but sensual enough to make the blood sing in my veins once again.

What was this woman doing to me?

A night wouldn’t complicate things. Much. I could handle it.

Or fool myself enough to enjoy it for the glorious moment that it was.

“I would say, just lead the way.”