Page 15 of Home Run

“You seem to have found us both.” I nodded as Scott poured out the rare liquid. “Merry Christmas.”

He held up his glass, waiting for me to do the same. “Merry Christmas.”

“I wasn’t sure if you’d change your mind and brave the cold London air to be with family.” My heart seemed to be beating a lot faster than it had before. It was strange. This man had only existed in two dimensions for the last couple of months. The three-dimensional version was much, much more overwhelming. His physical presence took up more space than just his body. It was like sitting beside a real-life statue that smelled great.

“I still hate the fucking cold,” he said, his voice low and raspy, “and I far prefer mysterious women to unwrap on Christmas morning.”

“It doesn’t seem I’m all that mysterious anymore. Not like…last time.”

“Does it change anything? Knowing who I am?” He sipped from the glass as he carefully watched for my reaction.

Did it matter? Knowing he was a famous athlete? No, actually. It added to the mystery and excitement. Knowing that little bit more was like a crumb. A clue. But it wasn’t the answer. There was still quite a lot to discover about Rhett Ryan. “No. I’m more curious than ever.”

His face didn’t move or twitch, but his eyes lit up. Like he was glowing inside and his eyes were the only window to the mysteries Rhett held inside. “I feel the same way.”

We sat silently. Rhett a mountain beside me, still and imposing, all while I tried to understand how it was possible to feel someone without touching them. I swear I could sense every inch of his muscular body, even when I trained my gaze on the bubbles of the champagne, every inch of me was aware of every inch of him.

“It’s strange,” he said.

“What is?” I forced myself to turn and look at him even though it was overwhelming. The full assault on my senses gave me tunnel vision for a moment.

“This. All of this. I don’t know you and you don’t know me. But we kind of do know each other and I don’t know why, but I couldn’t imagine spending Christmas with anyone else. You’ve been fucking with my brain all this time.”

His adorable frustration was sexy as hell. A little of my anxiety melted away. I stood up. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

“Another of your adventures?”

Whatever remnants of a frown were still etched into my face disappeared. I could only smile now with Rhett around. “Yes. One of my adventures.”

One of the many perks of having a best friend whose family owns a hotel is getting to know all its secrets. Another perk was having influence over those secrets. Back when we were in high school and my ice cream obsession was showing no sign of going away, Daphne’s mother decided to use my intimate knowledge of ice cream to create a secret treat freezer. Something that could fulfill guests’ special requests. It started with ice cream, sundaes, and shakes, morphed into frozen yogurts, and finally, gelato.

Rhett slid his hand into mine, threading our fingers together. It felt…intimate. Like he was touching me naked, except it was only our hands. And then when he wrapped his long, talented fingers around, holding me tight? Whoosh. My heart, my belly, all of it went flying away.

“How many times have you stayed here?”

“At least a dozen times. Maybe twice that,” he said.

“And did you ever get the dessert menu?”

He grunted. “Yeah. The fancy one?”

“Yep. It’s only available in the bungalows and the tower. If a regular guest asks, it’s of course available, but the menus are only in the other rooms.”

“Are you taking me to a special dessert menu?”

“Well, it is Christmas and we should have a special dessert to celebrate.” We took a service elevator down a floor. I had all the codes and, if necessary, a master override card I could use to get just about anywhere in the hotel. I led Rhett through the main kitchen to a corner with a separate freezer and prep bar.

“What’s your favorite dessert, Rhett?” I sized him up while he thought. Tall, broad, just an electric presence. He filled every space. Made me feel small, something I normally enjoyed because it made me lighter and more aerodynamic, but this wasn’t work. This was play. And when it came down to that, I wasn’t so sure how I felt.

“Chocolate syrup on anything, but especially a hot brownie and vanilla ice cream.”

A rush went through me as I catalogued each item and knew I could make Rhett’s favorite dessert. “A solid choice. A mix of flavors, temperatures, and textures, but with solid, traditional ingredients.” It took a moment to find the brownies, slice out a generous portion and place it in the microwave. Rhett watched without a word.

He followed me to the freezer, holding the door open. “And what’s your favorite, Hope?”

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