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“Do you?” The coy smile she loved to flash at him was evident in her voice.
“Hell yeah, I do. I miss that tight pussy of yours. I want to taste it on my tongue again.”
Her sharp inhale echoed in his ear, encouraging him to continue.
“So wear a skirt because the second I see you Friday, I plan to immediately find a flat surface and give you a good tongue lashing.”
9
“Jo,Ijustgot off the plane. I’m still walking through the terminal.” Bridget rolled her eyes. “I don’t even get how you knew I landed.” She juggled the phone and gave up trying to watch the screen, just letting her ear buds do their job. “Can we hang up? It’s really hard to FaceTime and not crash into people.”
“Ry told me you do phone stuff for him.”
Bridget’s face went hot, and she prayed it didn’t show. There was no way Jo could know Ryan had finally talked her into phone sex.
“But we’re tag teaming today,” Jo continued, probably because she couldn’t see Bridget’s crimson face. If she could, she’d make a comment that would probably make Bridget want to crawl into a hole.
Her phone was now pointing at the floor, or maybe the wall. She couldn’t be sure. Her main focus was avoiding contact with the people around her. New Yorkers had rules, and one was hurry up or get the heck out of the way.
“Tag teaming what?” Bridget asked while picking up her pace on the moving walkway.
“You. Methinks you need to tell him that you lived in the city for six years, bee-otch, because he thinks you’re a first timer, and I wasn’t breaking the news. I don’t mind if you two shack up and go at it like rabbits, but I’m not getting in the middle.”
“Jo.”
“What?” She went on without pause. “You’re cautious, and for good reason, with that narcissistic ex of yours who put you through the wringer. But you and I both know Ry isn’t like that. I get that you want to know where he stands. But I’m telling you, girl, your pussy must be laced with heroin because that man is addicted.”
“Oh my God, I’m hanging up.” She loved her best friend, but sometimes Jo was a lot.
“Just look for the guy in the suit with your name, and don’t be mad at my brother. He’s trying,” Jo said and then ended the call.
What thehelldid that mean?
Bridget stepped onto the escalator leading down to the pickup area of JFK International. The tall man in all black came into view quickly, along with the large letters emblazoned on a tablet.
BRIDGET ADAMS.
She’d told Ryan she could just take an Uber, but apparently he had other plans.
“Ms. Adams.” The large man held out his hand to take her bag.
How the hell did he know who she was?
When she hesitated, he added. “Sorry. Mr. Daily sent me a photo so we wouldn’t miss each other.”
Bridget gave a clipped nod. Eddie had always done that too. Just like her ex-husband, Ryan was wealthy. Her chest tightened at the thought, and she blew out a breath. Those parallels didn’t make him a controlling, demanding, selfish—
“Right this way,” the man said.
She shook her head. Over the years, she’d worked hard not to give Eddie space in her head, but she was experiencing déjà vu. The second they were settled in the car, the driver turned.
“Mr. Daily wasn’t sure if you wanted to go back to his condo, straight to the stadium, or if you would want a late lunch. Which would you prefer?”
She relaxed into the seat as, once again, the differences between the two men became clear. Ryan sending a driver was about making her life easier, not about manipulation and control.
“Stadium, please,” she said. “I’d like to see him pitch as much as I can, Mr.…”
His green eyes brightened. “Just Pete. And yes, he’s only been playing about six innings with his elbow issues.”
