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“Skim milk would be great,” she said, feeling a flutter in her stomach as their eyes met.
He winked. “Coming up.”
He brought her a cup. Amanda accepted it and took a sip. “Perfect. Thanks.”
They stared at each other for several intense seconds, the sizzle between them beyond physical. There was more. Amanda felt it in every inch of her body, inside and out.
He cleared his throat. “I guess I better let you get ready,” he said.
“Right. Yes. I need to hurry.” But what she wouldn’t give to blow off work and spend the day playing in the sheets with Brad.
***
WITH ONE EYE on her watch, Amanda headed out the front door only to discover Karen’s car parked in the driveway. Damn. She needed to warn Brad not to leave until Karen had gone. The last thing she wanted was Karen finding out who’d had a sleepover next door.
Amanda was about to go inside when her gaze caught on the paper. She had finally printed her story about Casey. She’d included a comparison of his stats to Brad’s. What a coincidence that Brad was here the morning it hit the stands. She snagged the paper then darted back into the house only to have the door fly open. Brad, now fully dressed, stood in the doorway. “Hey,” he said, offering her a charming smile. “I thought you left.”
She rushed at him, shoving him into the house and letting the door slam behind her. “Karen hasn’t left yet. She could see you.”
“Like she’d care. She’s the weather woman, Amanda. Has anyone ever told you you’re paranoid?”
“I don’t want anyone making assumptions about me. Stay here until she’s gone.”
“You run around naked in front of me and tell me I can’t touch. Then you act like I am worse than the plague because no one can see me. I have to tell you, Amanda, this isn’t the kind of reward a man expects after a night of great sex.”
“No, it’s the punishment for overstaying your welcome.”
His lips twitched with an ill-contained smile. “You don’t mean that and we both know it.”
“You’re very arrogant, Brad Rogers. And since it’s public knowledge, don’t be surprised if I write about it.”
“Apparently you like arrogant.”
Now she was fighting a smile. “When I said all pitchers were alike, I didn’t mean it.” She shoved the paper at him. “Interesting enough, in today’s feature I did a little comparison of you and Casey.”
“What?”
She laughed. His expression said he was imagining all kinds of horrible things the story might say about him. “Stop panicking. I went easy on you. But now who’s paranoid?” She shook her head. “I’m going to work.” She headed for the door, pausing to peek at him over her shoulder and wave.
Stepping onto the porch, Amanda decided she enjoyed being the one with the upper hand. She headed for her car, cell phone in hand.
She punched in Reggie’s number and the minute he answered she started talking. “Reggie. Oh, good. I got you. Please, please, please cover for me. I know I’m late but I—”
“Slow down, honeybun.” Reggie laughed. “You’re a reporter. You don’t punch the clock.”
Amanda got into her rental. She’d be so glad to have her own car back. “I know, but—”
“No buts about it. However, I have some interesting news.”
Don’t let it be about me and Brad. “What news?”
“We’re going on the road, baby! Kevin called me into his office this morning to say I was tagging along for your first time out.”
“You’re kidding? We’re going on the road! I’m not getting fired.”
“No, you’re not getting fired.” He sounded exasperated, as though he were getting tired of reassuring her.
“Well, not yet at least. As long as Jack doesn’t bust out with the steroid story before I get to it.”
“Stop ranting about Jack. I have more news.”
“More?”
“Yes, more. Good news, too. But I’ll tell you when you get here. I think you should pick up doughnuts on your way in to celebrate.”
“Oh, you do, do you?” She grinned from ear to ear because she couldn’t seem to stop herself. “Whatever you know and haven’t told me yet better be good.”
“Oh, it’s good,” he said with confidence. “Éclairs. I like éclairs.”
“Fine. But I need directions to the location of these éclairs. And later you can direct me to a good gym to work off the two I’m going to eat myself.”
Amanda took down directions and then started the car. A hot night of sex and great career news—what more could a girl ask for?
Just as she pulled into traffic, her phone rang. She hit the answer button without even checking caller ID. “This is Amanda.”
“You accused Becker of wearing garters?”
Brad’s deep voice sent a shock wave of awareness through her body. “I did not. I simply said there are rumors he’s a Bull Durham fan with similar superstitious habits to the pitcher in the movie. I went on to say he denies anything of the sort.”
