Page 6 of The Game Plan (Game On #3)

I’m about to bolt when he leans forward, his muscled forearms sliding a bit closer. “Go out with me. On a date.”

“What?” I push back from the table. But I can’t make my legs lift me. “I thought last night was...”

“A mistake?” He slowly shakes his head. “Not for me.”

I know I’m gaping. I can’t seem to stop. “But, but...”

His eyes crinkle. In the full sun, I see that they’re a striking blend of colors—blue, green, gold and brown—like polished

agate. “Speechless?” he says. “I like it.”

My mouth snaps shut. Then promptly opens. “You like me speechless. Well, there’s a great motivator for going out with you.”

“Like that I made you speechless. That I flustered you.” He tilts his head as he looks me over. “You do the same to me. Get

me all worked up. Only it seems to make me talk more than usual, not less.”

A fresh wave of heat washes through me. “Dex—”

“Ethan,” he interjects softly. “Will you call me Ethan? At least some of the time?”

“Ethan,” I say quietly. It feels intimate. Especially when his lids lower as though I’ve stroked his skin just by saying his

name. I swallow hard. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t seem like the hookup type.”

“I’m not.” He clenches his mug again. “I don’t think you really are either.”

“No,” I admit with a small smile. “Not really. I’m looking for more now.”

Dex—Ethan—nods. “Thing is, we’re both here for the week. Ivy and Gray are in no condition to entertain. I like you. A lot.

Why don’t we go out together?”

“Erm... that’s not what your proposition sounded like to me. You said on a date.”

His lush lips curl.

No, do not look at his mouth.

I watch his lips move.

“I did. I want to kiss you again, Fiona. I couldn’t sleep last night because I wanted that so badly.”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“So, yeah, I said date . Because if you let me, I’m going to kiss you again, as much as I can.”

It’s a struggle to find my voice. “Neither of us is looking for casual. We don’t even live in the same city. I don’t date

athletes. Or friends of my sister. Or—”

“Why don’t we start with what you do ,” he cuts in, his gaze direct, firm. It lowers to my mouth before sliding back up to my eyes. “Do you want to kiss me again,

Fiona?”

Why does he have to say my name that way? As if it’s a dare. And why is he so damn perceptive?

His eyes bore into me. “Did you think about me last night? In your bed?”

No one has ever been so blunt with me. Ever. It does my head in, giving me no place to hide.

“All I’m asking for is the truth,” he says, his big, strong body rock-solid in his chair.

Licking my lips, I try to breathe. Truth? I can do truth. It’s not so hard. Right? “Yes.”

One of his dark brows rises. “Yes to what?”

If I have to elaborate, I might expire on the spot. “Does it matter when the answer is yes?”

He smiles, and it’s like the dawn cresting over the sea. “When it comes to you, Fiona, the answer always matters. But I’ll

take that as a yes to all of the above.”

The chair scrapes as he rises, and my heart threatens to pound right out of my chest. But he doesn’t approach me. No, the

smug bastard just finishes off his coffee in one gulp and puts the mug in the dishwasher.

He glances at me over his shoulder before he goes. “Can you be ready in an hour?”

“Hello? What about everything that I said?”

He doesn’t blink. “Those are all fears. I respect that. But let’s take things as they come and see what happens. Okay?”

“Okay.” That’s all I manage. This guy makes my head spin. He’s just so reasonable. I don’t have any defense against it. Against him and his damn sexy self. Damn it.

“Good.” He gives me that smile once again. “Dress warmly. It’s cold out today.”

“You’re kind of bossy,” I call after him. “You know that?”

He stops and looks back at me. “Apparently only with you, Cherry.”

I don’t say another word, just watch his tight ass move beneath his jeans as he walks away.

“Well, fuck me,” I mutter.

I’ve been played. Again.

Dex

It’s official: I’ve lost my fucking mind. After spending the night basically staring up at the ceiling, I’d decided to leave

Fiona alone. Be polite. Retreat into my shell. A safe and solid plan.

One that crumbled like sun-dried turf the second I saw her sitting in the kitchen, the morning light glowing like a nimbus

around her golden hair. She was so beautiful she made my heart hurt.

Sharing a cup of coffee with her, watching those lovely full lips of hers move as she made idle small talk with me, was more

than I could take.

I want Fiona. Badly.

Enough to ignore certain fears and go after her. But I’m so out of my element that a tremor goes through my fingers as I run

them through my hair and gather it up in a knot.

Frowning, I comb my beard and stare into the mirror. My beard is a part of me now. How everyone sees me. Hell, it’s why Fiona

kissed me. And I have the urge to shave it off. Shave my hair off too. I honestly don’t even know what I’d see reflected back

at me if I did.

The door opens, and Gray saunters in as if he owns the place. Which he does. But still.

“Knocking, Gray-Gray, is a valuable skill.”

“I’m too tired to knock.” He flops onto the armchair by the window and leans his head back with a groan.

“Shouldn’t you be satisfying your wife?”

“I satisfied the fuck out of her.” He drags a hand over his face. “And then she fell asleep.”

I snort, and he glares.

“Fell asleep on a wave of extreme post-coital bliss,” he assures before looking me over. “Going out, big guy?”

In truth, Gray is two inches taller than me. But he’s built for speed while I’m built for blocking, which means I carry more bulk muscle.

“I’m taking Fiona to the Japanese Garden.”

Silence follows.

“So... Fiona, huh?” Gray sounds thoughtful.

Setting my hands on the dresser, I brace for a fight. “I want her.” More silence. I turn.

He studies me with a blank look.

“Are you pissed?” I won’t blame him. Hell, I expect it.

“If you were Johnson? Or Thompson? Or Marshal? Or any of those sharks, I’d punch your throat. But you? You think I wouldn’t

trust you with Fi? I’d take a bullet for you, man.”

Damn. My throat closes, and I have to clear it to talk. “You should get some sleep. You look like shit.”

He lets his head roll back on the chair. “What’s the point? Little Man will be up any second now.”

“I’m taking him with us.” I put my wallet in my back pocket.

Gray makes a strangled noise. “Seriously?”

My lips twitch. “Why do you think I’m here?”

“Uh, to hang out with us?”

“That. And you sounded like you could use a break. So here I am.”

“You came to help us out?” His voice is creaky, raw.

“I told you I know babies. So let me give you a break today.”

I swear Grayson goes weepy. He blinks rapidly before taking a breath. “I love you, man. I’m one step away from kissing you

right now.”

“You keep saying that, but I’ve yet to see any follow-through.”

Slowly, he shakes his head. “I love my kid. Like, seriously love him. But I confess, I’m dreaming of inventing some sort of

sleep drug for babies right about now.”

I reach for my boots. “He’ll figure the sleep thing out soon. Then you will too. Go on and get his things ready.”

Gray kind of falls-crawls out of the chair before righting. He really is dead on his feet. I feel for the guy.

He’s halfway out the door before he halts. “Dex, man... just... watch yourself with Fi.”

“You said you didn’t mind.”

“Not you.” He winces and pushes a fist against the door frame. “She’s kind of capricious. And I’ve never seen you go after

a girl, so...”

He doesn’t want me getting hurt. Well, I don’t want to be either. But it’s a risk I’ll have to take. Besides...

“I think there’s more solidity to Fi than you’re giving her credit for.”

He nods, but it’s clear he doesn’t agree. Thankfully, an irate squawk sounds downstairs. Little Leo is awake.

Gray inclines his head. “You sure about this?”

I know he’s asking about more than babysitting. And I should be thinking about my sanity. But I can only think of Fiona and

how her lips explored mine. Best feeling ever.

“As I am of anything.”