Page 81 of Pucked Up Plans
While I have no proof that’s what this is—maybe it’s purely physical and the rest will fizzle out—I get the sense to put it all on the line.
“What if it’s a risk I can’t afford?”
Another inch. “What if not taking the risk costs you more?”
The beat of her heart matches the rhythm of mine. There’s a lot at stake here, probably more than either of us realize. And if she decides the risk isn’t worth it, I’ll keep my promise. I won’t pursue Tate the woman. But it will be nearly impossible to avoid Tate the mom.
I hold my breath until she speaks again. “I’m so conflicted. My heart’s already gone, and my head needs to convince it it’s wrong. We can’t do this. We shouldn’t do this.”
“But what if we should?” I taunt. One more inch.
Even gentlemen are only human.
“Can we go slow?”
Despite what I speak aloud, “We’re already moving at a snail’s pace,” my heart gets tripped up. Because if she has to ask about our pace, it implies we’re moving forward. That I can work with.
“Slowish,” she amends.
“As long as we don’t backpedal and move onward in what we do, I’ll agree to slowish.” A palpable sigh of relief washes away her angst. Not wanting to press matters but needing some sort of tangible plan, I inquire, “For the love of Pete, can we please find a time to go out on a date? Plan for other things too?”
She swats my chest, not having to reach far since I’m sitting so close.
“Not slowish, Walsh. That’s warp speed. Zero to sixty in two point five seconds.”
“Um, what?” I shake my head. “I don’t think that analogy works. Is that possible? Zero to sixty what in two point five seconds?”
Instead of addressing my concern—which isn’t so much of a concern, per se—she speaks one word. One word causing my dick to grow semi-hard.
“Friday.” I probe the validity of what she’s offering with a raise of my brows. She approves with a nod.
“Friday it is,” I confirm. Until reality swoops in. The fundraiser. “No, not Friday. I have a thing Friday with the team.”
“Ah, true. And Saturday night you have Lennon.” Her hopes deflate, her body sagging with the weight of her disappointment. Can’t say I blame her.
“Come with me Friday. It’s a fundraiser and lots of people will be there.” The words are out of my mouth faster than a shot from a cannon. Then another thought occurs, souring my good mood. “But you probably don’t have much time, and a fundraiser with my hockey buddies isn’t much of a date. Nor is it sex.” Disappointment seeps into every crevice. Why is this so freaking difficult?
“I hope sex lives up to this pedestal you’ve put it on. It’s like the only thing on your mind.” Opening my eyes that closed when I fell back against the cushion, Tate’s beautiful face greets my sight. She continues speaking, not letting me respond to her comments or her close presence. “What if I told you I had all night? Barring any issues with Aubrey sleeping at my aunt’s by herself.”
Stupidly, I pull her onto my lap. Her surprise at my actions lasts briefly before she nestles herself comfortably, her legs straddling mine. My dick thickens, her position a total tease. Well, and the fact she said we had all night.
All. Fucking. Night.
“Please tell me you’re not joking.”
“Aunt Marsha offered. Unless Aubrey gives us a hard time, I’m yours for the taking.”
I’m yours.
That has a nice ring to it. A damn nice ring.
“What can I do to assure Aubrey won’t give you a hard time? I’ll do anything. Pay her money. Buy her vegetables. Have Ma make her a month’s worth of chili. Anything. Name it.”
Tate’s giggle further incites my cock. Then she tilts her head to the side, her features softening.
“I probably shouldn’t, but I love how you suggested vegetables. How you know her tastes. It’s like you’re giving my heart more ammunition against my head.”
“I aim to please.”
