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Catching the Player (Hamilton Family) Page 4
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He was ready for a hell of a lot of things. Showing Kassidy Thomas she was the furthest thing from boring he’d ever seen was at the top of his list.
“I’m definitely ready.”
He’d make sure she never doubted her worth, and she’d never forget the things he showed her—even though he’d never see her again.
Chapter Four
Oh. My. God. Wyatt Hamilton is touching me.
Between his fluttering touches on the side of her thigh, on her upper back, her hand, and the way he’d caressed her arm in her kitchen…she was starting to really, really want this to be a date, which was dangerous to her well-being. Guys like Wyatt probably ate girls like her for appetizers before moving on to the main course. Would he have tried to kiss her in her kitchen earlier if she hadn’t stopped him? If so, would she have let him? The answer to that, before she had decided to live her life fully, would have been a resounding no.
But now…
She wasn’t so sure.
Her money was on Wyatt being a hell of a kisser.
“More wine?” he asked, leaning close and picking up the bottle of Cabernet in the middle of the table.
“Yes, please,” she said breathlessly.
He leaned even closer, filling her glass and resting a hand between her shoulder blades as he did so. His fingers burned through the thin fabric of her dress, marking her skin in ways she’d never forget. All these touches were PG rated and completely innocent, but they made her heart race as if he were pinning her to the wall and stripping her bare instead. It was as if he’d unlocked this ferocious beast inside of her that demanded he do things to her that she’d only ever dreamed about.
“There you go,” he murmured, shooting her a sexy smile.
She took a deep breath. “Thank you.”
He nodded once, then turned his focus to the men across the table from them. They’d been discussing business for most of the meal now, and they were all waiting for dessert to be delivered. She’d interjected a few times, but they spoke English well, and there wasn’t much need for a translator, so she’d kept her linguistic skills mostly to herself, other than her greeting to them at the beginning of the meal.
“And how, exactly, would that be portrayed in your country?” Wyatt asked. His blond hair was swept to the side tonight and held in place with some sort of product. His hard jaw seemed even more defined when he was dressed in a suit—which made no sense, but whatever—and when he smiled, dimples popped out. Actual frigging dimples.
She’d been too blind to see those before.
The businessmen leaned forward, clearly also sensing the shift in the mood that said it was time to get to business. “We would advertise on the best shows, in the evening, and everyone would see you. We are big fans of American football, and we all follow the biggest quarterbacks.” He smiled and gestured at Wyatt. “And the ladies love the handsome ones, yes?”
Wyatt’s cheeks flushed slightly. “Well…”
“Yes,” she interjected, placing a hand on his arm. It was even harder than she remembered. She’d never met a man with muscles like this up close and personal. “We do love the handsome ones.”
He turned and locked eyes with her, and the breath she’d been inhaling stuck in her throat. His eyes dipped down her body slowly, thoroughly, as if…as if…he had every intention of doing what she’d only fleetingly fantasized about earlier, pressing her against a wall and stripping her bare.
And, God help her, she wanted him to.
“Did you just call me handsome, Kass?” he asked quietly.
“Duh,” she said under her breath for him, before smiling at the men across from her and raising her voice. “And handsome sells, does it not?”
“It does,” the older man said, nodding at her. “As does beauty such as yours.”
Her cheeks heated. “Thank you.”
“We have prepared an offer we think you will find very generous. If you’ll give us a moment to confer?”
Wyatt gestured toward them. “Of course.”
The older man spoke to his partner, expressing concern that she might understand them. She kept her face blank and tried to pretend like she didn’t. They said something shocking about her breasts, watching closely to see if she reacted.
She didn’t so much as flinch.
If they were testing out her linguistic skills, she wanted to hear every word, thank you very much. Satisfied, they nodded and said she clearly didn’t understand them. She held her breath as they talked about lowering their offer since he didn’t have an agent to speak for him at the moment. She stiffened as they dropped the number significantly, and then they laughed because their investors would more than likely give them a bonus for their smart strategy.
She listened in, weighing the pros and cons of speaking up and telling them she was fully aware that they were about to try and con a good man out of money. She had come along to translate, if necessary, but did this fall under that category? If Wyatt knew what they were saying, would he want her to intervene on his behalf? If she did, would it go well? Or would she be better off keeping her mouth shut and keeping her nose out of his business?
It wasn’t her place to negotiate for him.
He hadn’t asked her to do that.
The older man smiled at Wyatt. “We are prepared to offer you—”
Shit. She couldn’t do it. Couldn’t let them rip off a good man like Wyatt. “I don’t think you want to make that offer just yet,” she interrupted in Chinese.
Wyatt stiffened. “What did you just say to them?”
“Shh.” She said, placing her hand on his thigh and squeezing. She tried her best not to get distracted by how hard it was, but hot damn. She switched back to Chinese. “I think we need to renegotiate, gentlemen. He might not have an agent right now, but he has me.”
The older man blanched, his eyes wide. “You understood us?”
“Yes, I understood everything.” She held his gaze. “Everything.”
“Ma’am, I’m sorry—” he started.
“I’m sure, but that isn’t what I want to talk about.” She nodded once toward Wyatt. “He is worth more than what you’re offering. He’s unaware that you tried to shortchange him, and he doesn’t need to find out, if you make this right.”
The younger man laughed and tugged on his tie. “Why should we offer him full price, when he is unrepresented, and this is a huge deal for him—as he’s already stated?”
“Because it’s a huge deal for you, too.” She crossed her arms. “This would bring in a lot of revenue for you, as no one else had secured an athlete of his caliber in your field yet. Wyatt Hamilton is a household name, and I have every reason to believe by the time this season is over, everyone who hasn’t heard of him yet will.”
Wyatt sat up straighter, clearly tired of not understanding a single word that was being spoken around and about him. “Kass—”
“Quiet.” She squeezed his leg again and switched to Chinese. “He’s getting restless. Tell me what I want to hear, gentlemen. Make it better than your original offer, since you were so quick to turn on him when you thought he was weak.”
The younger guy’s jaw dropped. “You can’t be serious.”
“Dead. Go on, then. He’s waiting.”
After issuing her threat, she picked up her wine and took a big gulp because she might have just stepped out-of-bounds. He’d brought her here to help him translate if necessary, not to negotiate his offer. If these men walked away from him right now, it would be her fault, and she’d owe him for a busted endorsement deal, on top of a priceless vase.
What had she done?
The older man laughed, leaning back in his chair. He switched back to English effortlessly, looping Wyatt back into the conversation. “You have quite the ferocious defender as your companion, Mr. Hamilton. She’s like a dog with a bone, only ten times as fierce.”
Wyatt cleared his throat, side-eying her. “Yes, she is…something else.”
She shifted
in her seat, refusing to back down. She’d made her play, for better or for worse, against her better judgment, and she was going to stick to it. “I’m just looking out for the best interests of everyone here at this table.”
“Indeed,” the gentleman said. “After your companion’s…wise…words, we are prepared to offer you”—he scribbled down a number on a business card and slid it toward them—“this much, which is almost double our original offer. We appreciate a hard-baller almost as much as we appreciate a good deal, and this falls into both categories.”
Wyatt held it out to her, showing her. She glanced at it and nodded the verification he seemed to desire that it was, indeed, almost double the number the men had been prepared to offer—and holy crap, that was a lot of money. More than she’d ever seen, or would see, in her life. He smiled and tucked the card into the breast pocket of his jacket. “Gentlemen, I do believe we have a deal.”
They stood and shook hands.
Everyone clapped one another on the back in that way that men always did, and she swallowed another gulp of wine because she did it. She took a chance, spoke up, and it worked. One might say that by choosing to interject herself into the situation, she’d been living life to its fullest. Living wasn’t so hard after all, was it?
Guess she didn’t owe him for that vase anymore.
With this win, came a heady rush of victory unlike any other she had ever experienced. Never again. Never again would she put herself behind a wall or inside a bubble because some jerk had made her doubt herself. Never again would she stop living, or forget to take risks like she’d taken. Never again would she forget that for one night and one night only, she’d gone on a date with Wyatt Hamilton, or that she’d scored him a deal that would leave him sitting on a big wad of cash for the rest of his long, healthy life—all with her quick wits and sharp brain.
This was living.
She could fly over the white puffy clouds, higher than the planes in the blue sky.
And she was never going touch the ground again.
Smiling, she took another drink. Tomorrow, she was going to go to that spinning class at her gym that she always wanted to try but had been too nervous to actually go. She’d been sure she would make a fool out of herself, since everyone else always just seemed to know what to do and she didn’t, but screw that. She was going.
After that, she’d go get those highlights she’d been eyeing for a few months but had been too scared to try. Maybe she’d even join that dating site Jess kept telling her they should try out together for fun. The time was now. She’d waited long enough.
Wyatt placed a hand on her back. “Kass?”
She jerked back to the present, and back to admiring the sexiest eyes she’d ever seen on a man. He had a way of looking at a girl that made her forget all logic, and left her trembling and aching for something only he could give her. Did he see the effect he had on women, or was he blind to the full extent of his sexual allure?
Oh, who was she kidding? He knew.
“Yeah?” she asked.
“That was amazing,” he said, running his hand up and down her spine in an intoxicatingly seductive way, but she wasn’t even sure he realized he was doing it. Everywhere he touched tingled and burned and ached for more. “You started talking, and I wasn’t sure what was happening, but holy shit, you pulled it off.”
“You’re not mad at me for interjecting myself into the situation?” she asked slowly.
“Mad?” He laughed. “Hell no. You got me a great deal, with loads of money and opportunity. What the hell do I have to be angry about?”
“In that case…” She tucked her hair behind her ear and smiled. “Glad to help.”
“Smart and sexy as hell,” he said, still grinning and shaking his head. “You’re the whole package.”
She bit her tongue. “You don’t have to do that.”
“Do what?” he said, his voice sharp.
“Say those things. I was just paying back a debt owed.”
“Here we go again,” he said, his tone a little hard. “I fail to see why you find it so hard to believe I am attracted to you. Your hair is the softest I’ve ever seen, and I’ve been dying to touch it all night.” He slid a few strands through his fingers. “Behind those red-rimmed glasses of yours, your eyes are a gorgeous shade of blue that pulls me in. As if that’s not enough, your mind is brilliant, and around you, I can just be a normal guy, with a normal girl, out on a normal date, and that’s pretty amazing, too. I can’t remember the last time that happened.”
She shivered, swaying toward him slightly. “That’s because you’re not normal. You’re Wyatt Hamilton.”
“And you’re Kassidy Thomas.”
Exactly. She was just Kassidy Thomas, while he was…well, everyone knew what he was. She didn’t speak, because what was she supposed to say to that?
“Again, thank you for helping me out. Are you ready for me to take you home now?” He hesitated, then added, “Or, if you’d like, maybe we could pick up a bottle of champagne on the way and celebrate at your place before I go?”
Wyatt Hamilton, arguably the hottest guy in all the NFL, was asking her to have a drink with him, in her home, and she had no doubt what that drink could lead to if she accepted…she was ready for that. Whatever the hell happened from all of this, she was so there.
Against all logic and reason, she was there.
She wanted to live? Well, here was her chance.
Trembling, she picked up her glass, downed the rest of her wine, and for once in her life refused to think something through, because if she thought it through, there was no way she would say: “Sounds great. I know the perfect place to stop along the way.”
Chapter Five
They walked up to her door, his hand at her lower back, guiding her. The whole ride home, she’d been silent at times, biting her lower lip, not meeting his eyes. At other times, she would talk endlessly about anything—the traffic, the people waiting to cross, hell, even the weather. There was no hiding the fact she was nervous, and he’d attempted to set her mind at ease with a little bit of light humor, but every time he tried, she went right back to fidgeting.
What the hell did she think he was going to do to her?
They were just sharing a bottle of champagne.
Thing was, though, she wanted more—and so did he. He’d seen that flare of excitement in her eyes when he told her he found her undeniably sexy, and there was no doubt in his mind that she wanted him as badly as he wanted her. She was just too nervous to act on it.
For some reason, tonight, he was, too.
She made him nervous. Him. Wyatt Hamilton.
As she slid her key into the lock, her hands trembled, and he bit back a smile, stepping behind her, making sure to keep his body a safe distance from hers. “You smell like flowers.”
“Yeah, I’m always around them. Sometimes it seems like no matter how hard I try, I can’t get rid of the scent, so I stopped trying and decided to roll with it.”
“It works for you.” He touched her hair gently.
She let out a ragged breath. “Your cologne works for you, too. And your clothes. Your hair. Your face…”
“My face?” he asked, laughing.
“Yep. Your face.” She skimmed her fingernails up his arm, under his suit jacket. It made his cock harden and swell, and he stepped slightly closer, aching to press against her from behind, yet holding himself back. “And these. Your muscles. They’re working for you, too.”
He chuckled. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” With a smile, she fell silent, not opening her door, not pulling away, but not moving closer to him, either.
“Are you going to let me in?”
“Huh?” she asked breathlessly. “Oh. Yeah.”
She opened the door and gestured him inside.
He was a gentleman, so he motioned for her to go first.
Frowning, she motioned for him to go again.
He did the same.
&n
bsp; She laughed nervously, rolling her eyes, and dropped her hand. “Fine. You win, I’ll go.”
Grinning, he followed after her, shutting the door behind him with a soft click. “When it comes to duels of stubbornness, I’ll always win. Just ask my brothers.”
“You have brothers?” she asked quietly.
“Yep, three of them, and a sister, too.” As she turned on the lights in her living room, he shifted the bottle of cold champagne to his left hand.
“Are you the baby?”
“Nah.” He smiled. “That’s my sister, Anna. I’m kind of in the middle.”
“The forgotten child,” she joked, tipping her head toward the kitchen in silent invitation.
He snorted, following her. “Not in my family. No one was forgotten, despite the fact that there were five of us.”
When she walked, her hips swayed, and he’d swear she was gracefully floating through the air. Her long blond hair fell down her back in waves, and he knew it felt better in his hands than a brand-new football. She made everything look so easy. So perfect.
“How about you?” he asked, his throat thick and almost choking him.
“Huh?” She pulled out glasses. “Oh. I’m the youngest.”
“Any other siblings?” he asked politely.
“Nope, just the one.”
He nodded, taking the champagne out of the bag and removing the gold foil before working on the cork. She’d picked it after he’d told her to choose whatever she wanted because he was paying for it, and it had been ridiculously cheap. Any other woman he took out would have picked only a top shelf item, but she’d kept it under fifteen dollars.
It had been refreshingly charming and a welcomed change of pace.
Maybe that was why he was here, having the type of personal conversation that he usually avoided, and trying to think of anything to say to make her laugh because she had one hell of a laugh and he needed to hear it as often as possible.
When the top popped, she jumped slightly, holding a hand to her chest and then laughing nervously. “That always gets me,” she said, seemingly half in apology and half in amusement at herself.