The Perfect Play by Jaci Burton

I really have to go.”
    “Okay.” He didn’t need to have a shoe shoved up his ass to know he was getting the brush-off. Feeling like a moron, he turned and headed for the door. “See you later.”
    She looked as miserable as he felt. He didn’t get it.
    “Good-bye, Mick.”
    He heard the regret in her voice and stopped, turned, and marched over to her, pulled her into his arms and kissed her, covering her gasp with his lips. It took her all of point two seconds to respond, leaning into him, wrapping her arms around him, and making all kinds of moaning noises.
    Mick slid an arm around her waist and pulled her against him, deepening the kiss, sliding his tongue inside, tasting the sweetness of her. It was Tara who broke the kiss, who stepped back, her eyes glassy with passion, her nipples peaking through her blouse.
    Yeah, she felt it, too. Whatever was between them wasn’t one-sided. And her brush-off wasn’t because she didn’t want to be with him.
    “See you later,” he said, and walked out the door, leaving her standing there heaving deep gulps of air.
    She had a great time, he had a great time, but she didn’t want to see him again? Something was wrong. And he was going to find out what it was.
    He might have lost that down, but Mick always got up for the next play.
     
     
    DAMN.
    It took Tara a full ten minutes to pull her act together before she could walk out of her office. By then her client had arrived, and she spent the next hour going through the motions of showing the prospective client everything there was to know about her company and the services they offered.
    Or at least she thought that’s what she’d done. She had no recollection of that client meeting. For all she knew, she might have recited the Burger King menu to the poor woman. Then again, the client signed an agreement for services, so she must have done something right.
    “Tara, do you have any idea who that was?”
    “Mrs. Stenson?”
    Maggie, her assistant, rolled her eyes. “No. That hot dude who rolled in here before Mrs. Stenson did.”
    “Oh. You mean Mick.”
    Maggie looked stunned. “You’re on a first-name basis with Mick Riley, quarterback of the San Francisco Sabers. Just what exactly happened at the party last night?”
    “I don’t want to talk about it.” Tara headed back to her office, but Maggie’s heels clipped on the tile floor, along with those of Tara’s other two employees, Ellen and Karie.
    Deciding to ignore them, Tara sat at her desk and opened her appointment book on her laptop.
    “Tara, you have to give us the scoop,” Ellen said.
    “No scoop to tell. Sorry.”
    “When you walked out of your office, your cheeks were red and you looked like you’d been kissed. Really, seriously kissed. Did he kiss you?”
    Tara looked up at Maggie. “None of your business.”
    Maggie grinned. “So he did kiss you. Oh. My. God.”
    Tara blew out a breath. “There’s nothing going on between me and Mick Riley, so hold off on calling the gossip magazines, okay?”
    “Did he or did he not come in here to ask you out?” Maggie tapped her foot.
    Tara felt like she was the defendant in an inquisition as three sets of very determined eyes stared her down.
    “Maybe.”
    “And you said yes, right?” Ellen asked.
    “I said no.”
    Karie threw her hands in the air. “Tara, he’s gorgeous. Talented. Rich. Is it possible your standards are just a little high?”
    She stared down at her employees—really, her best friends, the trio of blonde, brunette, and redhead, all gorgeous, single women who would never turn down a guy like Mick. But they didn’t have the life—the complicated life—she had. They didn’t understand.
    “I’m not looking for a guy.”
    “Why the hell not?” Maggie asked. “You’re young, beautiful, and single. Why shouldn’t you be looking for a guy?”
    “You know what my life is like. I’m busy here and at home. There’s no room in my life for a man.”
    “Worst excuse ever.”