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“A… what?”
Bash shook his head, the corners of his mouth twitching up like he was trying to fight a smile but couldn’t. I really loved that look.
“The red team.” He lifted an eyebrow. “The ones you almost killed yourself over?”
“Ohhhh. TheKingmakers. Right, right.” A warm breeze ruffled my hair, and I wondered if I’d just done something unforgivably un-Sterling.
In fact, I had all sorts of questions. Like, which team was Sterling Chase supposed to have played on in the match today? Who’d covered for me? Where wasmypolo horse? Why hadn’t Bash mentioned any of that?
It was frustrating that I couldn’t ask without giving everything away.
“Er, I wouldn’t say I’m afan, per se. I don’t follow the rankings. I just like to see an underdog win.”
“Me too.” Bash’s leg bumped mine, and my heart, which was already galloping from the thrill of the game, began to beat even faster with a very different kind of excitement. “The Kingmakers have a novice on their team this year, of course, which brought down their handicap.”
“Mmm.” I nodded sagely, like I hadn’t learned about polo handicaps mere hours before.
“I’m curious, though,” he went on, “how you knew they were the underdogs if you don’t follow the standings.”
“Oh. Their posture when they took the field.” I shrugged. “Kinda nervous and determined but subdued. And the first time they scored, they werereallyexcited. You could see how unexpected it was.”
Bash’s smile spread and softened slightly. “You’re very unexpected, Rowe.”
The furious beating of my heart must’ve been contagious because my stomach began swooping and dipping like it was doing the tango. I couldn’t look at Bash without staring at his mouth, so I forced my attention back to the field, where the spectators milled around in the sunshine.
“Yes. Well.” I cleared my throat. “Unexpected in a good way, I hope.”
“I hope so, too,” Bash said cryptically.
I frowned and glanced at him, but he was already eyeing the roof’s access door. “You ready to go? I think it’s time for us to discuss a few things.”
A few things?
As in,thingson my Quirky Billionaire to-do list for the coming week? Or as fraudulent identitythings? Or as in…thingsthat might come after the kiss in the barn earlier?
My stomach fluttered nervously.
Sitting side by side with Bash in the sunshine had been wonderful, like a step out of time. When he’d leaned closer to point out something on the field, his warm breath had brushed my cheek. When he’d laughed at one of my fake-Sterling observations, he’d thrown his head back, and our knees had knocked together. I’d found myself relaxing further and further into his side as the match had gone on, lost in my excitement about the match and the moment and the man at my side. I’d let myself forget about Sterling Chase, and Justin Hardy, and Project Daisy Chain, and the very real risk that all of this was going to explode in my face.
Now, though, that worry was back with a vengeance.
Last night, when Joey and I had flopped on the futon and traded stories—Joey’s involving aWest Side Story-esque rivalry he’d ignited with a competing food delivery guy—I’d told him about my plan to attend the polo match, and his eyes had gone wide.This is bad news, cuz. You were only supposed to be Cinderella for one night.You keep pushing your luck, and you’re gonna end up holding a pumpkin.
I’d come anyway. Of course I had. I was on borrowed time, and I’d told myself I couldn’t pass up the chance to meet Justin or another investor, which was true… But another, larger truth was that I couldn’t pass up the chance to spend one more day with Bash.
For the last ten years, I’d thought of nothing but Daisy. I’d told myself I was living for the both of us since I was the only one who could. But until meeting Bash, I hadn’t felt like I was living much at all.
As Bash climbed down the ladder, I touched my fingers to my mouth. When I closed my eyes, I could still feel the weight of his lips against mine imprinted there and taste his unexpected sweetness on my tongue. And I was very glad I’d pushed my luck.
“Rowe?” Bash called from below.
“Yes. Coming.” I scrambled to the ladder and swung myself over.
Bash reached up to guide me, his hand sliding from my calf to my thigh to my hip. But instead of steadying me, his touch was electric. By the time I dropped to the ground inches away from him, sending up a cloud of dust motes and random bits of straw, I was breathless and half-hard.
“Thanks,” I said softly, trying not to stare at his handsome face. “So, um… now we go up to the clubhouse and see if Justin is there?”
“That’s up to you,” Bash said. “We can, if you’d like. And there’s a reception for donors later on that you could attend. Or…”
