Page 25 of Wicked Player

She laughed sweetly and waved her hand in the air as they passed by. “Will do!”

I waited until they were in the restaurant and took a minute to calm myself.

All four of them were as down to earth as anybody I’d ever met. With the exception of Oliver, possibly nicer. And if their friendliness was any indication of how the night would go, perhaps I’d be able to enjoy myself and not be so fixated on Gage Bryant after all.

Nine

Gage

“Wow, Gage, honey. This is marvelous.” My mom’s hand pressed firmer on my forearm. I was escorting her into the Hills hotel restaurant and reception room where tonight’s event would soon start.

“Thanks, Mom.”

It didn’t matter how many fancy restaurants I took my parents to or what presents I bought them, including the new Enclave SUV for her last year. I’d wanted to buy her something nicer, something more luxurious. With everything my parents had been through, and as much they’d always supported me, I always wanted her to have the best.

I also knew she’d refuse, concerned it wouldn’t look good for the pastor’s wife of a small, country church in Ohio to drive around in something so ‘excessive,’ as she called it.

I disagreed but respected her enough to get her something new and shiny but something she’d also feel comfortable driving around.

That was Sue and Graham Bryant. Simple pleasures. Gentle lives full of love and serving and gratitude.

“You done good, son,” my dad said as we came to a stop.

A waiter appeared in front of us carrying a tray filled with champagne.

“No thank you,” I told him. “But can you have someone bring us some sparkling waters?”

“Certainly Mr. Bryant.”

“It’s always so weird when they call you that instead of me,” my dad said, playfully teasing me. His smile fell. “Not kidding, son. We’ve told you this a lot, but this, what you’re doing, and what you’re pouring your wealth into…well, we want you to know that you could do nothing for the rest of your life and we’ll always be so darn proud of you.”

“Thanks, Dad.” I let go of my mom’s hand in order to pull my dad to me. I grew up in a strict home, forced to not only follow the rules of the house but be a good example outside of it lest I brought any shame to my parents.

While I never necessarily got pissed about it, it was a lot of responsibility to put on a kid. And that was the crux of most of my life, because in so many ways, I was still that kid, not wanting to embarrass them.

They’d always love me, but I never wanted to bring negative attention to their purpose and calling.

Hence the membership at Velvet and why continuing anything with Elizabeth was a bad idea.

Perhaps the first bad idea I was still going to follow through with.

I walked them around the room, guiding them toward our table. We stopped and spoke with several players, their wives who embraced my mom in their arms like she was theirs, too.

It’s how my parentswere. Regardless of religious affiliation or lack thereof, people met my mom and immediately felt pulled to her. Like they’d always had her smiles and goodness and oatmeal chocolate chip cookies in their lives.

By the time I had them at our table where we’d sit with the Rough Rider’s coaches and wives or girlfriends, I’d already clocked Elizabeth.

Somehow, in a room of hundreds, her presence was still a vibrant beacon.

She was off to the far side, halfway to the bar, a flute glass in her hand. Even from the distance separating us, I found her easily. It unsettled me. One night of perfect sex shouldn’t have me so on edge.

I’d never before been drawn so forcefully to a woman. Sure there were women who would play the game, go digging for a guy with deep pockets and do it fluidly without the man knowing if he was even being conned, but those women had never been attractive to me.

This woman played no games and after considering her reactions to me earlier, spending way too much time after the hospital thinking about her, there was no way she recognized me from the other night.

Which meant as long as I kept my distance with her professionally, I could still see her personally.

But that meant I was forced to keep my distance, and I didn’t very much like that idea, either.

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