The guy wanted a lot more than the hug.
“Keep the top one for yourself,” Mark heard him tell her. “That’s the seat right next to mine.”
A date. She had another damn date. His eye twitched. Probably due to the new brain bleed.
Rainey came back to the bleachers. “Lena’s neighbor,” she said. “Jacob works at the district office and brought tickets to the ballet tonight at the San Luis Obispo Theater for everyone here who wants to go.”
He held out his hand.
She stared at him. “You want to go to the ballet.”
Okay, true, he’d rather be dragged naked through town, but hell if he’d admit it. “Yes.” And if he had to go, so did James and Casey. “I’ll take three, unless this is a private date.”
She slapped three tickets into his palm, and it did not escape his notice that she took them from the bottom of the pile. “It’s not a date date,” she said defensively. “And he’s a nice guy. A non-fixer-upper, you know?”
No. He had no idea.
“And I told you,” she said. “I’m looking for someone. Someone who wants me as is.”
Hell, she killed him, he thought as she averted her face and let out a long, almost defeated breath. Not friends, he reminded himself, even as something in his chest rolled over. “You’re perfect as is, Rainey.”
“Says the man who dates big-boobed blonde women from stupid reality shows.”
He laughed. “That was a photo op, that’s all.”
“Every time?”
“Well, maybe not every time.” He reached into her sweatshirt pocket and pulled out her phone, absolutely taking note that doing so caused her to suck in a breath when his fingers brushed her skin.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Programming myself in as your number one speed dial. In case you need another date rescue.”
“I didn’t need last night’s rescue.”
“You going to try to tell me last night didn’t work out for you?”
Their gazes met, and she inhaled deeply. “Why are you doing this?”
No clue.
She looked at him for a long moment. “Are you jealous?”
Fuck, no.
Okay, yes. Yes, he was. “How can I be jealous of someone that’s not a ‘date date’ to a ballet?”
She crossed her arms. “Okay, I’m sure I’m going to regret asking, but what’s your idea of a good date?”
“Depends on the woman. With you it’d be a repeat of last night.”
Color bloomed on her cheeks. “We’re not going to discuss last night. Make that rule number two.”
“Ah, yes. The rules of Rainey Saunders.” He shook his head. “And people think I’m a control freak.”
“Because you are.”
“Hello, Mrs. Pot.”
She made a sound of exasperation, and still seated, she leaned forward, stretching her fingers to her toes. Her sweatshirt rose up a little in the back, revealing a strip of smooth, creamy skin and a hint of twin dimples just above her ass, and the vague outline of a thong.
He didn’t know which he wanted more, to trace that outline with his tongue or dip into the dimples. Before he could decide, she straightened, rolled her neck, and winced. “I have a kink.”
“Yeah? Tell me all about it, slowly and in great detail.”
She snorted. “Pervert.”
Smiling, he slid over, behind her now, and put his hands on her shoulders. “You’ve got a rock quarry in here.” He dug his fingers in, rubbing at her knots.
“I’m fine.” But her head dropped forward, giving him better access. When he found a huge tension knot with his thumbs and began to work it out, she let out a soft moan that went straight through him. “Rainey.”
“What?”
He pressed his face into her hair. Go out with me instead of what’s-his-name. Before he could bare his pathetic soul, Rick came outside and saved him.
“She’s home,” Rick called out to Rainey. “I’m sending you over there with our famous backup.” He waved Casey and James over. The guys had come from the gym, where they’d had their teams at the weights.
“Field trip,” Rick said. “Rainey’s in charge.” He sent a grin in Mark’s direction. “Need me to repeat?”
Mark flipped him off, and Rick’s grin widened.
“Where are we going?” Casey asked.
“You’ll see,” Rick said.
Mark hated that answer.
“Shotgun.” James leapt into the front seat of Rainey’s car.
Casey got into the back.
Mark walked up to the passenger front door and gave James one long look.
James sighed, got out and slid into the back.
Rainey looked over her sunglasses at Mark. “Seriously?”
“No,” he said, putting on his seat belt. “If I was serious, I’d have made you let me drive.”
RAINEY’S CAR WAS full of more good-looking, great-smelling men than she had dollars in her wallet. Lena would be having an orgasm at just the thought. James and Casey were talking, keeping up a running dialogue about their day. But as she headed into the heart of the burned-out neighborhood, their chatter faded away.
From the shotgun position, Mark didn’t say a word. He seemed to be in some sort of zone, with his game face on to boot. She wished she had a zone.
Or a game face.
Turning his head from where he’d been looking out the window, he met her gaze.
God, he had a set of eyes. Richly dark and deep, she got caught staring, and forced herself to look away before she drowned in him.
He slid on his cool sunglasses. She did the same. Good. With two layers between them now, she felt marginally better. “I don’t know if any of you have seen the extent of the destruction,” she said. “But it covers nearly 100,000 acres.”
“I’ve been through it,” Mark said. “My dad’s new house isn’t far from here.”
Rainey glanced over at him again. “Your dad lost his house?”
“Yes. It’s just been rebuilt.”
“That was fast.”
Mark nodded, and she understood that he’d expedited the building process. He’d pulled strings, spent his own money, done whatever he’d had to do to get his dad back into a place, and the knowledge had something quivering low in her belly.
And other parts, too, the parts that he’d had screaming for him last night. Don’t go there, she told herself. There’s no need to go there. Not with a man who was only here for one month at the most, a known player, and…and possessing the absolute power to embed himself deep inside her, and not just physically. He didn’t want her hurt by a guy? Well the joke was on him because there was no one who could hurt her more.
When they got to the heart of the worst of the fire devastation, it was painful to see the blackened dead growth and destroyed homes where once the hills had been so green and alive.
“Damn,” James said. “Damn.”
“Besides doing the sports,” Rainey said quietly, “I run the rec center’s charity projects. We’ve been raising money all year to fund one of the rebuilds, the one you guys have been working on. There was a lotto drawing from the victims, and one lucky family won the place free and clear. We’re going to go notify the winner.”
“Mark has contacts you wouldn’t believe,” James said. “He can snap his fingers and make people drop money out their ass. You should have seen how much money he raised for the Mammoths’ charities over our last break. Maybe he could get another house funded for you.”
Rainey glanced at Mark, surprised to find him looking a little bit uncomfortable, though he met her gaze and held it. “You good at raising money?” she asked. He was good at raising holy hell, or at least he had been. Probably Mark was good at raising whatever he wanted.
Casey grinned. “Yeah, he’s good. He rented out our favorite club and he had a mud wrestling pit set up right in the center of the place, then invited a bunch of supermodels.”
Rainey could imagine all the wild debauchery that must have gone on in that mud pit, each player getting a model for the night.
Or two…
Just thinking about it made her eye twitch, and she carefully put a finger to the lid to hold it still. “Interesting.”
“Yeah, he raked in some big bucks that night,” Casey said. “Our charities were real happy.”
“Does all your fundraising involve mud pits and centerfolds?”
“Models,” James corrected. “Though centerfolds would have been great too. Hey, Coach, you’ve got a bunch of centerfolds on auto-dial, right? Maybe-”
He trailed off when Casey drew an imaginary line across his throat for the universal “shut it.” “Ix-nay on the enterfolds-say.” Casey jerked his head in Mark’s direction. “He’s trying to impress.”
“No worries,” Rainey said dryly. “I’ve already got my impression. It’s burned in my brain.” She pulled into a trailer park and drove down a narrow street to the end, where she parked in front of a very old, run-down trailer.
“Wow, that’s the smallest trailer I’ve ever seen,” Casey said. “Someone lives here?”
“Six someones,” Rainey said. “We’re here to tell them the good news, that they’ll have a place by late summer.” She smiled. “They’re big hockey fans. Plus,” she said, turning to Mark, “you’ve been coaching their daughter, Pepper.”
The guys unfolded themselves out of her car and she looked them over, realizing that they were dripping with their usual air of privilege. “Do any of you ever look like anything less than a couple of million bucks?” she asked Mark.
James snickered, then choked on it when Mark glared at him. “I’m wearing sweats,” he said calmly. “Same as you.”
“Yes, but mine aren’t flashy,” she said. “Yours are from your corporate sponsor.”
“Rainey, we’re both wearing Nike.”
“Yes, but yours probably cost more than I made last month.”
James grinned. “Actually, you can’t even buy what he’s wearing. They made it just for him.”
Mark let out a breath. “Should I strip?”
“No!” But as they walked through the muddy yard the size of a postage stamp to a tiny metal trailer that had seen better days in the last century, she slid him a look. “What if I’d said yes?” she whispered. “What would you have done?”
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