Page 20 of Risky Game

Yeah. I needed to go have a crappy hookup that would probably lead to a lackluster performance before I jumped my boss.

“Of course.” Logan tossed the washcloth into the sink and headed to his butler’s pantry off the kitchen. “What would you like?”

He waved to the wall on one side. Three thick floating shelves held as much alcohol as a liquor store. The shelves were framed by two sets of cupboards, glass doors, and every kind of drinking glass you could use. He might as well have run his own bar out of his pantry. Beneath the counter were two fridges. Sodas and sparkling waters and beers filled one, and the other was full of wine.

“I like to be ready for anything,” he said when I dragged my surprised gaze off the hidden bar that could entertain his entire team for an evening.

“Well, you’re certainly ready to turn into an alcoholic.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “What would you like?”

“Chardonnay, please, but I can get it.”

He ignored me, crouched down, and after rolling several bottles to check the labels, he pulled one out. “This good?”

I bought and drank double bottles of Costco’s store-brand wine. Whatever he had in his fridges had to be better. Not sure how it could be worse. “I’m sure it’s great, Logan. Don’t forget I’ve just been a poor college student.”

“Right.” That grin again. He meant nothing by it. Couldn’t have. But I still reached out and grabbed the counter to hold me up.

Maybe I needed to go see a doctor. Get my weak knees checked out.

Logan grabbed the electric bottle opener from the counter and while he opened the bottle of wine, he turned to me. “So what did you go to college for anyway?”

Ahh. This was the topic I could talk about all day long. And all night. My passion for art sometimes drove even Gina crazy, and she and I had met in our Intro to Art History class in Portland.

“Art history.”

I anticipated the surprised look before it came, but it was common. I was used to it. It wasn’t the most common thing and most people who I told my major to assumed I wanted to go into teaching.

“That’s not something I hear a lot.”

I snorted and reached for the glass of wine. “No offense to you or any of the people you’re usually around, but you’ve spent your professional life around athletes. That and art don’t usually go together at all.”

“Ah,” he teased. “Is that a little bit of judgment I hear in your voice?”

I rolled my eyes. “Tell me I’m wrong and I’ll apologize.”

“Fair point. But I’m interested. Come sit with me outside and tell me about it?”

Talk about my passion for art while overlooking his serene backyard with the sun setting? He’d probably never get my ass off the chair, and I’d bore him to sleep on the back patio. Even knowing that, I didn’t resist.

“Lead the way.”

I stepped back. He grabbed another beer from the kitchen fridge, and I grabbed a napkin to use as a coaster on our way.

Once we were settled on his furniture, I relaxed. Hues of oranges and purples colored the sky to our right, and the shadows and covered patio kept us in the shade. Logan flipped on ceiling fans that whirred to life above his outdoor seating area and I melted into the cushions.

“I know I said this the other day, but your backyard is absolutely gorgeous. Quiet, too.” Besides the cicadas and crickets coming to life, there was only the sound of a commercial jet somewhere in the distance. Ducks floated on the lake and across it, I could barely make out the shapes and shadows of two people standing on paddleboards.

“We didn’t have much of a yard where we lived in California. Vanessa got the house so Amelia didn’t have to move, but one of the things I was excited about moving out here was this kind of life. Quieter, land to roam and play and explore. I can’t wait for Amelia to see it in person.”

“You haven’t seen her yet?”

“I flew back before training camp started and spent a couple days with her, but she hasn’t been out here yet. We FaceTime and that kind of thing, which reminds me I’ll need to give you Vanessa’s number so she can call Amelia.”

“Of course.” That shouldn’t be awkward at all at first.

“I’ve shown Amelia the home and backyard on the phone, but I wasn’t expecting her to be out here for another month. My parents were going to bring her on our bye week in early October.”

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