Near the back, Tag was sprawled out on two adjacent seats, one leg up, one leg hanging to the floor, his arms flung wide, mouth open, sleeping with the utter abandonment only a kid could pull off. Sam was across from him, and as Wade looked at her, he realized that this was where he’d meant to end up, near her.

As if she felt the same, Sam moved over to make room for him. She didn’t speak, and Wade couldn’t express his appreciation enough for that. He just wanted to sit, maybe sleep, and he’d wanted to do both those things with her.

His pretend girlfriend.

It didn’t escape his notice that he was closer to her, in their pretend relationship, then he’d been to any other woman in a long time.

Or that he’d been having an internal debate with himself about whether they could have something for real.

Half the time he believed it.

The other half, he wasn’t so sure. It’d never worked for him before, and if he fucked it up and they ended up in a bad place, then he wouldn’t have her in his life at all.

So he didn’t go there. Instead, in the dark, surrounded by the low hum of the plane’s engine, he just absorbed being close to her in the only way he knew how. After a few minutes, Sam stretched and yawned, shifting, trying to get comfortable. “Here,” he murmured, and slid an arm around her shoulders, urging her against him. She looked up at him, and then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, set her head on his chest.

The simple, easy trust had something catching deep within him. Nothing he wanted to define given that he was fairly certain it would be something he didn’t know how to face, so he merely stared down at her, struck by the warmth spreading through his belly as she slowly drifted off, using him as her pillow.

Christ, she was sweet.

“Wade?” she murmured in a low sleepy voice that made him hard.

“Yeah?”

“Cop a feel while I’m asleep and I’ll toss you out the window at fifteen thousand feet.”

He smiled. “Go to sleep, Sam.”

And she did. The plane was comfortably dark and quiet, and it’d been one hell of a long week. Pulling her in a little closer to better support and hold her against him, Wade settled in. He could tell when she let go because she completely relaxed against him, but for him sleep was a long time coming.


Sam coaxed Tag out of bed the next morning with blueberry pancakes. He wasn’t thrilled. “I know you’re tired,” she said when he yawned broadly. “And I know it’s early, but I have to-”

“It’s okay,” he said, bleary-eyed, head dropping to the table next to his plate.

She stared down at him, concerned. Ten-year-olds were supposed to be rough and tumble. She’d looked it up. Ten-year-olds were supposed to be hard to handle and loud and noisy. She wanted him so badly not to be scarred by his parents, by circumstances. But every night she lay in bed and worried about all the ways she might be further screwing him up. “Do you ever complain? Whine? Act like a brat?”

He cracked open an eye. “You want me to act like a brat?”

She smiled and lifted a shoulder. “Maybe once in a while, yeah.”

“Okay.” He straightened. “I wanna play Xbox in the clubhouse. It really sucks that you don’t have one here. I mean who doesn’t? You don’t even have a GameCube. You’ve got nothing.”

“Sorry, there’s no baseball game today. We’re not going to the clubhouse. And I don’t have kids, so I don’t play Xcube or Gamebox.”

He snorted.

“Or whatever,” she said with a roll of her eyes.

“What if I threw myself down on the floor and yelled?”

“Would you really do that?”

He looked at the floor, then at what he was wearing-Wade’s jersey, what a surprise. “I might get the jersey dirty.”

“Don’t worry. You’re going to like what we’re doing instead.”

Too late. He appeared to be enjoying his temper tantrum. “I don’t wanna sit in your office and do schoolwork. Why do I have to do everything with you? At home, I got to stay alone.” He paused, then almost as an afterthought, kicked the floor, then repeated his favorite mantra. “I want to go home.”

“Okay,” she said. “I know I started this, but-”

“I could go home if I really wanted to. I could call Uncle Brett. He’d come get me.” He pulled out his cell phone and thumbed through his contacts.

She was no longer sure if they were playing at this temper tantrum or if he was testing her, so she decided to wait him out a minute.

He went still. “Aren’t you going to stop me?”

“From calling a member of your family? Never.”

Tag stared at her, not old enough to hide his dismay. “But I was going to tell him to come get me. And you don’t want me to go. You like me.”

“Actually, you silly, cheese-loving, grumpy old man hiding out in the body of a ten year old, I love you, with all my heart.”

Tag blinked, and then in his ear Brett said, “Hello?”

Sam reached out and covered the mouthpiece of the phone. “You realize you don’t have to talk me into letting you stay, right? That I truly want you to stay. If you want to.”

“I want to,” Tag whispered back, eyes bright. “I really want to stay with you.”

“Music to my ears.” She closed his phone on her brother, no qualms. Brett would forget they’d called within two minutes. “Now come here,” she said softly, slinging an arm around Tag’s narrow shoulders and pulling him in.

He was stiff, but didn’t shrug her off. “You’re not going to kiss me are you?”

She sighed and kept her lips to herself.

Shortly after, they cleaned up breakfast and Sam showered and dressed. She was going to be in professional capacity but a far more casual one than usual, so she went with a pantsuit today. And a Heat baseball cap with Wade’s number on it.

It was for appearances, she told herself as she drove her and Tag to the park.

“What are we doing here?” Tag asked.

“It’s a surprise…”

Both Pace’s and Wade’s cars were in the lot. The sight of Wade’s gave her stomach a little quiver. Other body parts quivered as well.

On the field, Pace and Wade were coaching two teams of ragtag kids against each other in a game of baseball. Wade stood behind the catcher, his sunglasses catching the sun. He wore battered Levi’s and a T-shirt that stretched across his biceps and chest and was loose over his washboard abs. He also wore a smile, the one that did things to her insides.

And her insides didn’t need things done to them; they were already fluttering.

From across the field, he met her gaze. She looked right back at him and more fluttering occurred.

“Jeez,” Tag said at her side. “Take a picture.”

She’d wondered when he was going to act like a ten-year-old. Seemed the real Tag was starting to show himself.

And so were her feelings for Wade.


Wade watched Sam and Tag arrive. That she’d showed up today for the game didn’t surprise him. She ran the 4 The Kids charity with the same easy efficiency she seemed to run her life, and though this wasn’t one of her events, it was Pace’s. Wade was only along because Pace had dragged him out of bed, saying he needed more help than just a check with this one. Sam was here because she’d insinuated herself into their program, for which they were both grateful.

What did surprise him was the ball cap on her head.

With his number on it.

It’d been only last night that he’d held her while she’d slept on the plane, and yet he couldn’t take his eyes off her. There were no reporters here today, they didn’t have to be “on,” so probably some space was called for between them.

But he didn’t want space.

Sam was running back and forth between her car and the snack bar, setting it up when he cornered her in the lot. “Nice,” he said, flicking the cap up to see her eyes.

She lifted a shoulder, but couldn’t quite hold back her smile. “It’s a girlfriend thing.”

“I like it.”

“Sorry about drooling on you last night.”

“Yeah? You snored, too.”

When her horrified gaze flew to his, he laughed softly against her temple.

“I don’t snore,” she grumbled, smacking him lightly on the chest.

He pressed his face into her hair. “Only a little.”

With an eyeroll, she turned away and hoisted a box of candy bars out of her trunk.

“Candy,” he said. “The way to every little boy’s heart.”

“And the big boys?”

He took the box out of her hands and set it on the roof of her car. Then he backed her up against the door, slid a hand to the back of her neck and kissed her. She made a soft sound of acquiescence that sliced straight through him, and when her tongue tentatively touched his, he got hard so fast the blood drained from his brain, leaving him dizzy. “The big boys have a different way to their heart,” he said against her lips.

“I can feel that.”

“Smart-ass.” He stroked a finger from her temple to her jaw. “We should go out for dinner after the game.”

“For pretend?”

“For whatever comes to mind.”

Her eyes darkened.

“Tell me,” he demanded softly. “I want to know what you just thought about.”

“Naked. Naked is what comes to mind. And,” she said quickly as he skimmed a hand up her back, pressing her closer, “it’s a bad idea.”

His fingers slipped under the hem of her top to settle on bare skin. Bare, warm skin that he wanted to kiss, nibble, suck… “Because…?”

“Because in a few weeks we go back to whatever we were before.”

She had him there. Together they walked to the field where Tag was already with Pace and the others. Tag was by far the youngest boy out there, but no one had any problem including him. This would never have happened in an organized league, but these kids were different. At one time or another, they’d all been the misfit and because of it, they were far more accepting.