Triple Dare

“Just this.”

She rose on tiptoes and brushed her lips across his mouth. She meant it to be a quick kiss. Sweet and gentle, something to whet his appetite and give him a tantalizing taste of the woman she’d become.

Something to leave him wanting more.

But the second her lips found his all thoughts of kissing and running flew out of her mind. She hadn’t counted on the warmth of his mouth, the softness of his lips or the soapy clean, all-male scent of him tickling her nostrils and sending a current of desire through her body.

She snaked her hand around his neck and pulled his head down, needing more. Needing him to respond. She couldn’t be the only one feeling this electricity between them, could she?

Ivy pressed against him and flicked her tongue against his mouth, willing him to open up to her. With a primal moan he surrendered, parting his lips and bringing his hands around to cup her bottom. The movement brought her impossibly closer to him, fitting her soft curves to his hard lines.

Oh. My. Bleeping. God. Seeing him in the G-string hadn’t prepared her for the delicious pressure of his growing erection against her. She closed her eyes and relaxed into the kiss, letting the sensations left in the wake of his roaming hands overwhelm her.

He released her and stepped back, leaving her breathless and shaky. The sudden rush of air smacked her like a wet towel. She tightened her ponytail and summoned her inner Scarlett O’Hara.

“I think that ought to convince her. Don’t you?”

Cade shoved his hands in his pockets. “It was pretty damn persuasive. But I doubt we’ll have to go that far. Just seeing us together should do the trick.”

“You never know. Better safe than sorry.” Ivy grabbed her purse from the hall table and brushed past Cade on her way to the door. Pinpricks of heat flared where they touched. She shook them off, opened the door and stepped into the mild, sweet-smelling spring evening. “Let’s go. It’s almost game time. We’ve got a grand entrance to make. And a mission to accomplish.”

Cade didn’t need to know Ivy’s mission had a dual purpose. First, show Sasha he was off the market. And second, get him to take her seriously.

Which one would be more difficult was a toss-up.

* * *

“STRIKE THREE.”

Cade threw down his batter’s helmet and stalked back to the dugout.

“Here.” He thrust his bat into the waiting hands of the left fielder, some guy in C Company he barely knew. “Maybe you’ll have better luck with it.”

“What’s eating you, Hardesty?” O’Brien, the first baseman and one of Cade’s fellow firefighters in B Company, greeted him with a smirk and a slap on the back. “One more at bat like that and Cappy’s gonna bump you out of the cleanup spot.”

“No one’s taking Cade off cleanup.” Like Teddy Roosevelt, George “Cappy” Perez, B Company’s captain and the team manager, spoke softly and carried a big-ass stick. Right now that stick was a Louisville Slugger he leaned on in the corner of the dugout.

“It’s okay, Cade, you’ll get ’em next time.” Ivy’s cheerful voice rang across the field.

“That’s right, baby.” Sasha’s followed, a slow, sweet twang that oozed sex. It used to turn him on. Now it was just flat-out embarrassing, like she was trying too hard to be seductive. “Next time.”

“Now I see your problem.” O’Brien leaned back on the bench and folded his beefy arms over his chest. “You’ve got one too many women, Hardesty. Want me to take one off your hands? I bet the redhead won’t mind. Fat chicks usually aren’t picky.”

Cade ripped off his batting gloves, grabbed the front of O’Brien’s jersey and pulled him to his feet until they were standing face-to-face. Cade could see the pores on his pug nose, crooked from being broken one too many times. “Listen up, dirtbag. If I ever hear you say another word about Ivy, I’ll hit you so hard not even Google will be able to find you.”

“Okay, okay. I get it.” Cade pushed him away and O’Brien landed hard on the bench. “The fat chick’s yours. I’ll take the blonde with the big boobs.”

Cade lunged for him again, but a strong arm wrapped around him from behind and held him back.

“That’s enough.” Cappy loosened his hold only slightly and turned his attention to Cade’s antagonist. “O’Brien. Less trash talk. More softball. You’re on deck. Let’s get something started. I’m not buying these pansies pizza two years in a row.”

O’Brien scooped up his helmet and headed for the on-deck circle, pushing past Cade and muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “chubby chaser.” Cappy let go of Cade, giving him a pat on the shoulder before returning to his post in the corner.

The other guys, who’d been strangely quiet during the whole scuffle, resumed their usual midgame chatter. Cade took a seat at the far end of the bench, away from his teammates, wondering what the hell had just happened.

He wasn’t a violent guy, typically. Laid-back and easygoing, that was Cade Hardesty. The guy least likely to lose his temper.

So why had he lost it on O’Brien?

Okay, the jerk-wad had insulted Ivy. Called her fat. It wasn’t anything Cade hadn’t heard a million times from the kids in school. They even had some dumb-ass, humiliating nickname for her, something about Jabba the Hutt. But he hadn’t gone around threatening to beat the shit out of every kid who used it.

Of course, he’d been nothing but a stupid, self-centered kid himself back then. All he’d cared about was who he could con into doing his chemistry homework and which chick he was going to take to Hotchkiss Point on a Friday night. He’d like to think he was past that now. Maybe that’s why he’d leaped to Ivy’s defense at last.

Cade watched as O’Brien swung and missed. Strike two. Not surprising. The guy must be blind if he thought Ivy was fat. Hadn’t he ever seen Jennifer Lopez? Or Kim Kardashian? There was a big difference between overweight and curvy. And Ivy most definitely fell into the curvy category.

He leaned his head against the dugout wall and closed his eyes, remembering how those soft curves had felt molded against him from chest to thigh. She was all sun-kissed, satiny skin. And that kiss...damn. He’d been hard from the minute her mouth met his.

“Wake up, man.” A hand jostled his shoulder. “O’Brien grounded out. We’re in the field.”

Cade jammed his cap on his head, grabbed his glove and trotted out to third base. Once he was in position, he risked a glance at the stands. Even in a crowd, Ivy was a cinch to spot. She’d positioned herself front and center in the first row. Her ponytail bobbed wildly as she nodded her head to the beat of the Springsteen song playing over the PA.

She looked up as the song ended. They might be sixty feet apart, but that didn’t stop Cade’s insides from somersaulting when her eyes met his. The unfamiliar emotion was like an itch he couldn’t scratch.

“Heads up, Hardesty.”

Cade pivoted toward the voice, silently thanking the powers that be for the interruption. The shortstop tossed him the ball, and Cade wheeled and threw it home, completing the circuit.

“Looking good, baby.” Sasha stood in her seat and waved so enthusiastically her bought-and-paid-for boobs almost bounced out of her practically nonexistent top.

“Yeah, baby,” O’Brien mocked from across the diamond, pursing his lips and making goo-goo eyes at Cade. “Looking good.”

Cade scuffed at the dirt around third base with the toe of his cleat. They were down by three in the fourth. He had one woman he couldn’t handle and another he’d like to but damn well shouldn’t. And that no-necked goon O’Brien seemed hell-bent on pissing him off.

It was going to be a long freaking night.

4 (#ud6445082-345e-5b1a-8f68-e339e5a1043a)

“NICE GAME,” CADE repeated through gritted teeth as he went down the line of police officers, shaking hands. Christ, he hated losing. Especially when it was his own damn fault.

“Better luck next year.” The last cop in line squeezed Cade’s hand a little too hard, his smile a little too broad.

“Bite me.” Cade squeezed right back, engaging his long-time friend and one-time roommate Trey Brannigan in a familiar battle of wills.

“No, thanks.” Trey grimaced but held on. “But I will bite into at least four slices of Valentino’s meat-lovers special, courtesy of the SFD.”

“Keep it up and it may just be your last meal.”

Cappy came up behind Cade and clapped his shoulder. “Play nice, boys.”