Just for Kicks by Tracy Solheim

Eight

* * *

ONE OF THEperks Dex enjoyed most about playing for a professional sports team was the round-the-clock access to private, state-of-the-art training facilities. While he would have much preferred an early morning run out of doors—the weather was perfect for it—the thought of the paparazzi pursuing him along the shores of the lake forced him to enact plan B. As he expected, the Growlers’ gym was a veritable ghost town. The players and staff had been given the weekend off before the season opener the following week, leaving him alone with his thoughts while his feet pounded the rubber of a treadmill.

Too bad his thoughts weren’t as quiet as the room around him.

He was married. To a stranger, no less. A very alluring, spell-binding, unique stranger. One he had no business being attracted to.

Except he was.

He needed to figure out a way to maintain his sanity over the next six months. Otherwise they’d never be able to pull off this damn charade. She’s not your type, he kept reminding himself. So why then did his libido go from zero to sixty every time they were in the same room?

He adjusted the speed on the treadmill, kicking his pace up a notch. But he still couldn’t outrun his thoughts. Marrying a stranger in haste was a piss poor idea. He should have listened to Andi and reached out to one of the actresses who’d used him as an opportunity for more media coverage. Any one of them would have jumped at the publicity a fake marriage to him would provide. Not only that, those women would have approached it as a role, and every time his phony spouse cast a seductive glance his way, he would know she was acting.

Not so with his current fake wife. Those luminous blue eyes of hers were like a window to her soul. Her emotions were on display for everyone to see. And whenever Dex looked into them, he saw desire.

And loneliness.

He forced his feet to move faster. Seeing passion reflected in a woman’s eyes wasn’t novel for Dex. Most women saw him as a sexy meal ticket in cleats. He felt no real shame knowing that he’d used that to his advantage on multiple occasions. But he couldn’t in this case. Despite her pragmatism, there was still an aura of innocence around Andi. Even after all the hard knocks life had thrown at her, she was still bright and shiny, and full of optimism.

So much like Niall, it hurt.

But it was her lonesomeness that would likely doom him. Last night, when he’d rejected her again, the pain in her eyes triggered something within him. He damn near spilled his guts to her. Revealing his darkest secret just to push her away. To protect her. From him.

Swearing violently, he pounded his feet harder on the treadmill.

“For someone on his honeymoon, you sure have a lot of stamina.”

Heath Gibson’s words nearly had Dex tripping over his own feet. He punched the button to lower his speed to avoid wiping out in front of the Growler’s new head coach. Grabbing a towel, he scrubbed it down his face trying to regain some of his legendary composure. So much for a secluded, quiet place to think. He’d been so engrossed in his chaotic thoughts he hadn’t noticed the other man’s approach.

A former league-leading tailback, Heath Gibson was the ultimate player’s coach. It helped that the man, who was barely forty, was still in prime physical shape to keep up with his players. He didn’t ask them to do anything he couldn’t do and the team respected him for it. Having spent the past three years as the offensive coordinator for the reigning champion Baltimore Blaze, it was no surprise he’d landed the top job with one of the league’s other premier teams.

Coach rested a shoulder against one of the weight decks, studying Dex with a bemused grin. “Don’t tell me you’re in the doghouse so soon after tying the knot?”

Dex draped the towel around his neck while he tried to come up with a likely excuse for being at the practice facility at an hour when he should be in bed with his new wife. “No,” he hedged. “Not in trouble. I was just getting a workout in while she gets all glamorous for an interview that we have scheduled for noon today.”

“Say no more.” Coach shot him a commiserating look. “Been there, done that. Except now, I have to entertain the kids while Merrit gets ready. Then she wonders why I’m always late.” The corners of his mouth turned up and he was silent for a long moment, presumably absorbed with his own internal thoughts at the mention of his wife and family. “They’re worth it, though. Definitely worth it,” he murmured.

The conversation had taken a turn toward the uncomfortable. Dex didn’t want to discuss the details of his own marriage. Coach Gibson was obviously besotted with his lovely wife and their two young children. Dex needed to make a gracious exit before the other man began brandishing advice about potty-training.

He glanced at his watch hoping the universal signal would send the right message to his coach. “I’d better hit the showers so I get back in time or I will end up in the doghouse.”

He started to take a step toward the locker room, but the coach’s words stopped him in his tracks. “Congratulations, by the way, Fletcher. I’m looking forward to meeting your bride.”

Dex swallowed a groan. He didn’t want anyone meeting Andi. The more people invested in their marriage, the more awkward it would be when the sham ended. But he couldn’t tell his coach that. “She’s a wee bit shy,” he fibbed. “And all of this being married to a celebrity can be a touch overwhelming for someone like her.” When his coach didn’t respond, Dex capitulated. “I’m sure she’d enjoy it if you said hi after one of the games, though. Maybe later in the season once she’s had a chance to adjust.”

A confused look settled on the coach’s face. “I was thinking more like at the picnic tomorrow.”

Bloody hell!

He’d forgotten all about the annual family picnic the team held every Labor Day. He needed to figure a way out of that and quickly.

“And don’t think of using your honeymoon as an excuse to get out of showing up,” the coach said as if reading his mind. “Your secret marriage is hot news. No doubt you’ll want to get all the ribbing out of the way before we return to practice next week.” He pinned Dex with a hard stare. “I’d rather keep the distractions to a minimum so we can concentrate on getting ready for opening day. Besides, Merrit hasn’t met a lot of the other wives yet. I’m sure she’d be grateful for another newbie to pal around with. Even one who’s ‘a wee bit shy.’”

Coach Gibson disappeared in the direction of the commissary, leaving Dex alone again in the gym. This was exactly what he’d hoped to avoid. Keeping up their charade in front of the people who knew him best. He walked over to one of the punching bags and jabbed it with a mean right hook. The stinging in his hand did nothing to lessen his frustration, so he headed for the showers to cool off instead.

When he stepped out of the icy spray fifteen minutes later, he was annoyed to discover he was no longer alone in the locker room. Dex glanced in the direction of his locker and groaned. It had been vandalized with a dozen inflated condoms and the ridiculous ball and chain the players traditionally decorated a teammate’s locker with when he got married. He growled at the culprits, Van Horn and Kessler. The two men ignored him. They were tossing a ball between them while having a conversation as if Dex wasn’t standing right there.

“Why do you suppose a guy with hot new wife would come and shower in an empty locker room?” Van Horn asked as he chucked the ball at his wide receiver.

“Beats me.” Kessler flipped the ball back. “Maybe she got a peek beneath his kilt and ran away in terror.”

For his part, Dex was still trying to make sense of the sharp anger coiling through him at Van Horn categorizing his new wife as “hot.”

Van Horn spun the ball on his fingertip. “Or maybe this is all just a publicity stunt.”

One of the things Dex admired most about Van Horn was his keen intellect. The guy would have likely been awarded a scholarship to Stanford without his rocket arm. The Growlers’ quarterback also possessed the uncanny ability to read the defense. It was one of the reasons he’d been named league MVP last season. Right now, however, Dex wished his friend hadn’t honed that talent so perfectly. Van Horn tossed the ball back to Kessler and leveled a glare at Dex that was known to make three-hundred-pound linemen squirm.

Trying to appear unfazed by his friends’ assumptions, Dex sauntered over to his locker and began pulling on his clothes. “Don’t you two morons have something better to do?”

Kessler smirked. “Hmm. He doesn’t sound like a man who just spent the weekend getting lucky, either. In fact, he sounds a wee bit testy.”

Dex attempted to divert the conversation away from himself. “If I’m testy, it’s because you both are standing here goofing off instead of out on the practice field working on crossing routes. Kessler’s been dropping a lot of balls that have been thrown right into the bread basket.”

The wide-receiver bristled, his ever-present aw-shucks grin fading into a scowl. “Screw you and the kilt you rode in on, Fletcher. I haven’t had a drop since the second game of last season.”

Van Horn held up a hand to calm his favorite receiver. “The first quarter of the second game of last season, in fact. But he’s just trying to throw us off our game plan, Kessler. For some reason, he’s not interested in discussing his love life with us.”

Damn straight.Dex shoved his sweaty clothes into his gym bag.

“Well, I still like my theory that he won his pink-haired wife in a poker game. And, dude, who knew you even played professional poker?” Kessler’s voice was filled with awe. “It’s always the quiet types you’ve got to watch.”

Dex pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, I’m sorry you both have your jockstraps in a twist, but it’s not like I didn’t invite you to my bachelor party. There wasn’t one.”

“Because you never told us you were getting married and we couldn’t plan one,” Kessler accused.

“About that, Fletcher,” Van Horn added. “I’ve played on the same team with you for seven years. I thought we were friends. The kind of friend who would know when his buddy planned to hightail it off to Vegas to get married.”

Dex looked between the two men. His teammates were genuinely miffed at being left out of his wedding. The knowledge should have made him feel good about their friendship. Instead, it had him feeling like a bigger dick than he felt before. Because he had to mislead them, too. If he thought lying to his family was painful, this was just as bad. Hell, his teammates were his family.

He blew out a breath. Now was as good a time as any to try out the schtick they had come up with for this afternoon’s interview. Perhaps if his friends bought the story, he’d be more comfortable selling it in front of the TV cameras.

“The wedding wasn’t exactly planned,” he explained.

Both men shot him identical no-shit looks.

“I had to rush into things to avoid being deported.”

His unexpected admission quickly wiped the smug looks from both their faces.

“Say what?” Kessler demanded.

Van Horn was more circumspect in his reaction. “Go on.”

“There was a mix-up with my paperwork.” Dex shrugged. “I had only three days to fix it or I’d have to leave the country and miss the season.”

Van Horn crossed his arms in front of him, tucking his long fingers beneath his armpits. “So, what, you up and married a stranger to keep your green card?”

Kessler eyed his quarterback incredulously. “Forget the green card. He did it to stay in uniform. Hell, I would have married him to keep him on the team! He’s the best damn kicker in the league.”

The quarterback rolled his eyes, but he didn’t let Dex off the hook.

“It was the most expedient option.” Despite everything his agent had told Andi last night, there was still the potential ICE would sniff out the truth. And he had no doubt the authorities wouldn’t hesitate to make an example of a celebrity circumventing the rules. Therefore, it was critical everyone believe he and Andi were a couple before their rushed wedding. Especially his parents, who would be crushed to learn otherwise. “And she isn’t a stranger.”

Van Horn studied him as if he was analyzing a critical segment of game film. “Funny you never once mentioned her.”

Dex mentally kicked himself for not sorting out the pertinent details of their fake relationship with Andi last night. Now he’d have to wing it. He’d just be sure to fill her in before their interview. Including the part about her being painfully shy.

“We only met a few months ago.”

“Define a few months,” Van Horn demanded.

His teammate was starting to piss him off. “I don’t know exactly, counselor. The beginning of the summer sometime.”

“Dude,” Kessler interjected. “Why are you getting all up in his grill? Fletcher did what he had to do to stay on the team. That’s really all that matters.”

“Because we roomed together for three weeks during training camp and he never once mentioned this woman,” Van Horn argued. “Or talk to her on the phone. Or invite her to one of the open practices. I’m calling bullshit, Fletcher.” He gestured to the ball and chain. “You’re the first one to swear you’d never see that thing chained to your locker. Ever. And now this?”

Dex wiped the sweat from the back of his neck. This was more stressful than lining up for a game winning kick. But he needed his friends to buy his story and back off. For all their sakes. He stared Van Horn down and shrugged.

“What can I say? People change.”

Van Horn returned the stare for a long beat, his gaze unwavering until he uttered a noise sounding more like a snort than a sigh and looked away. “She must be someone pretty special to take you down.”

“She is.”

The words slipped out of Dex’s mouth without conscious thought, surprising all three men. That bead of sweat threatened to turn into a river. He was getting carried away with this conversation. He needed to be careful not to lay it on too thick. Except, he wasn’t exaggerating about Andi being special. He admired her perseverance and her integrity. The fact she also starred in his X-rated dreams the past two nights had nothing to do with anything.

“Wow.” Kessler slapped Dex on the back. “You’re a sly one, Fletcher. But I’m glad you found someone to make you happy. Congratulations.”

Van Horn shook his head, a sliver of doubt still lingering in his eyes. “I can’t wait to chat with this special woman. She must have some sort of mystical powers if she can make a leopard change his spots.”

“Or make a Highlander change his plaid,” Kessler joked.

Bloody hell.Now Van Horn wanted a one-on-one with Andi. Navigating a meeting with coach would be bad enough, but the quarterback would easily sniff out the truth. And then there was Van Horn’s remark about her being “hot.” No way he wanted his friend around his wife. But Van Horn would only see the excuse of Andi being a “wee bit shy” as a challenge. Dex was pretty sure the guy was smooth enough to talk the habit off a nun. A more desperate deterrent was needed. He blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“She stutters.”

Both his teammates eyed him circumspectly. With those two words, the hole he was digging for himself became a crater. He silently cursed his decision to come to the training center for a workout. He’d been better off trying to outrun the paparazzi. But, as his Gran would say, in for a penny, in for a pound.

“She’s uncomfortable with chatting or any type of small talk.”

“But she does speak,” Kessler asked, no trace of amusement in his voice.

“Aye,” Dex snapped.

With that, he snatched up his gym bag and stormed out of the locker before he made things any worse than he already had.

* * *

ANDI EYEDTHE sophisticated woman staring back at her in the mirror, watching as Clive clipped a string of pearls around her neck. There was no denying the linen sheath dress made her look reserved. It also made her look matronly.

“I know I said I wanted to look respectable for Dex’s fans.” She gestured to her reflection in the mirror. “But isn’t PTA president a bit over the top?”

“Nonsense.” Clive tutted as he straightened the pearls. “This look is timeless and chic. I striped it from the mannequin at H&M, so don’t even try to tell me it’s not hip.”

“And the pearls are perfect with it,” Mrs. Hilbert agreed. The older woman insisted upon tagging along with Clive and Daniel for Andi’s makeover, bringing with her a treasure trove of jewelry as if she’d looted a Brighton boutique just for the occasion. “Besides, you needed a something borrowed.”

Something borrowed.

The way the three of them were fussing over her, she almost felt like a bride. Except for the fact most brides didn’t go into their marriage with a set expiration date. At least that’s the way the fairy tale was supposed to work. Happily ever after and all that.

Happy ever after will never be for me. So don’t go setting your heart on it. I’m not a good gamble. Not for someone like you. Ye ken?

Oh, she ‘ken’d’ all right. The story was always the same, no matter the accent. She wasn’t happily ever after material. Heck, she wasn’t even good enough for a desperate jock who’d do anything to avoid going home to his family. He’d certainly drummed that message into her head enough times throughout their short acquaintance. As if that wasn’t enough, he admitted to being attracted to her. Then he’d turned it into a backhanded compliment by issuing a very clear warning that he was never going to act on that desire. The sting of his words kept her tossing and turning most of the night.

Yet, when she replayed the conversation in her head for what had to be the nine-hundredth time, she couldn’t help but hear the anguish in his voice. To witness the pain in his eyes. Almost as if he was protecting her from something.

From himself.

Andi nearly laughed. She was used to not being good enough. To having everyone abandon her. Did he expect her to fall to pieces when this farce was over in six months? Hardly.

Sure, he was sexy as hell. Sure, her body nearly self-combusted every time he touched her. Sure, it would be nice to enjoy the fantasy of being more than just pretend for however long it lasted. But while she didn’t have the multiple college degrees her fake husband did, she certainly wasn’t stupid enough to give anyone else the power to hurt her ever again. Her heart was well and truly fortified. And she’d thrown away the key, thank you very much.

He could think what he wanted. But for the remainder of the season, she’d have no problem playing the role of Declan Fletcher’s cool, confident wife. She’d show him he didn’t have the power to hurt her.

She lifted a hand to finger the messy knot at the base of her skull where Clive managed to hide her pink strands.

“Will you stop trying to booger up your hair,” he scolded, batting her hand away. “The pewter color of this dress brings out the blue of your eyes so perfectly, no one will notice the pink.”

“Never mind that you might put your eye out with that rock on your hand.” Daniel looked over from where he was seated on the bed. The traitor was stroking the back of a loudly purring Morag. The cat narrowed her eyes at Andi, swishing her tail as if to say I was here first and I’ll still be here when you’re gone.

Stupid cat had the right of it.

“Be sure not to wave that thing in front of the camera,” Daniel continued to tease. “You don’t want to shatter all those television screens.”

The others laughed, but Andi was having trouble finding the humor. She glanced down at the ring on her finger. Her stomach lurched. Despite its beauty, it felt like an ostentatious signal announcing their lie to the world. Her stomach lurched for another reason when she spied her husband’s angry face reflected in the mirror.

“What have you done with my wife?”

Dex’s thunderous tone had Morag scrambling for cover. Daniel let out a yelp when the cat left behind a fresh set of scratch marks on his arm. For her part, Andi had to stifle a shiver at the possessive way Dex barked the word “wife.” Clive, his skin thick thanks to years of bullying and even more therapy, was unfazed, however. He turned to face Dex with the casual boyish charm he doled out to all his clients.

“We’ve polished her up for the television cameras.” He gave Dex a long look, scrutinizing him from head to toe. Wherever her husband had been hiding the past few hours, it hadn’t involved prepping for their interview. And, damn him, even dressed in ratty sweatpants and a faded Growlers T-shirt stretched tight over his muscled chest, he didn’t need any additional polish. The self-confidence and sex appeal he exuded were as blinding as her new ring.

Apparently, Clive wasn’t picking up the same vibe.

“I’m happy to assist you, too. Were you planning on shaving? Or are we going for the scruffy look today?” He reached a hand toward Dex. “Maybe a little gel to tame those curls.”

Dex growled low in his chest, the sound doing crazy things to Andi’s stomach—not to mention points south. Clive snatched his fingers back, hastily tucking them into his pockets.

“I donae need to be Queer-Eyed by ya, laddie.”

And to think, Andi once thought the arrogant asshole’s brogue was sexy.

“Hey!” Stepping between the two men, she shot a frosty glare at the idiot she was pretending to be married to. “What gives you the right to storm in here and insult my friends?”

Dex’s expression went from stunned to stony in less than ten seconds. “How about the fact that I own this bloody flat!”

Well, hell. The man had a valid point. Still, she refused to be the first one to look away.

“Umm, kids,” Mr. Hilbert entered her now crowded bedroom and clapped his hands for attention. “The film crew is in the lobby. What do you say we take this discussion down a few notches and return to neutral corners so that we don’t blow this thing before we even get started, hmm?”

When no one moved, the lawyer lost his cool. “Everybody, out!”

“Mind your temper, Kurt,” Mrs. Hilbert chastised her son while she stuffed her jewelry into a bag. “Have you eaten anything today? He always gets hangry when he skips breakfast,” she explained to the room.

“He’s not the only one. How about we get some brunch, Mrs. H,” Daniel, ever the diplomat, suggested. He took the older lady by the elbow and steered her toward the door.

“I never turn down a free meal with a much younger man.” Mrs. Hilbert glared smugly at her son before swatting Dex on the ass as she made her way out the door.

“Mother!” Mr. Hilbert charged after her, stopping briefly next to Dex. “You have two minutes before they walk through that door. Get your head in the game, Fletcher.”

If Dex heard the man, he didn’t bother acknowledging him. He was too busy staring down Andi. It appeared they were engaged in a test of wills. One that she intended on winning.

“Suit yourself,” his agent grumbled. “It’s your ass that will be shipped back to Scotland.”

That did it. Dex swore violently before spinning on his heel and following his agent out of her bedroom. It was only after a door slammed down the hall that Andi expelled a breath. Clive’s gentle touch on her shoulder did nothing to calm the anger rising inside her. It didn’t matter if the flat was his, he still wasn’t going to speak to her friends that way. He could cast off his own family and never see them again, but as long as she was playing the part of his wife, her friends were to be treated like the family they were to her.

“I shouldn’t have been so cavalier,” Clive said.

“No. He is the one who should be apologizing,” she snapped. “His comment was inappropriate. And I’m going to let him know. Right now.”

“Andi!” Clive called after her, but it was too late. She was already striding down the hall. If they were going to make this work, they needed some ground rules. He’d given her his stupid rules. Well, now he’d have to listen to a few of hers. And rule number one was to be respectful of her family of friends.

Not trusting that she wouldn’t lose her nerve, she didn’t bother knocking. Instead, she threw open the door and hurried across the threshold, only to stop short at the sight that greeted her. Dex was peeling off his sweatpants and, wonder of wonders, there was nothing but the smooth skin of a very toned ass beneath them.

Oh. My! The Man with the Million Dollar Legs had an ass that was equally fine. Forget Magic Mike. She was pretty sure her fake husband’s booty could star in its own movie. It would certainly be starring in her dreams tonight.

Shamelessly, she quickly glanced toward the mirror hoping for a peek at the rest of his spectacular anatomy before forcing her eyes to the carpet. She was not here to ogle him, she scolded herself. Spectacular ass aside, he’d been rude to Clive. She opened her mouth to call him out on it, but all that slipped out was a sigh.

His eyes collided with hers in the mirror. “Jayus, Mary, and Joseph!”

Thanks to remarkable athleticism, he was able to frog jump into his walk-in closet without injuring himself. Had she any breath left in her lungs she might have laughed.

“In case you didnae know, lass, that big wooden thing is called a door. It’s meant to keep people oot,” he shouted from within the closet’s depth, his accent again becoming more pronounced.

“Oh, will you cool it with the ‘Bob’s your uncle’ routine,” she responded testily.

Silence greeted her from within before he emerged a minute later wearing dark gray pants and a puzzled look. His chest was still bare, however. She attempted to avert her gaze because she was not going to let his annoyingly sexy body distract her from her objective. But her unruly eyes immediately zeroed in on the happy trail of dark hair leading from his chest down to where his fingers fiddled with the buttons at his waist. Her stupid thoughts immediately began to ponder whether he was commando beneath them. With a huff of frustration most definitely fueled by arousal, she crossed her arms over her suddenly tight nipples.

He arched an eyebrow at her. “Bob’s your uncle?”

“You know. Your accent. Brogue. Whatever it’s called. You use it to distract me.”

He shook his head softly like he didn’t know what she was talking about, but she could swear the corners of his lips had turned up into a near smile before he looked away.

“You were rude to my friend,” she said.

“Aye.”

“Clive doesn’t deserve to be treated like that just because of his lifesty—wait. What did you say?”

“I said I know. I was wrong.”

Well, that was unexpected.

Dex heaved a sigh before dragging his fingers through his hair. “Look, Andi, this is a lot more complicated than it sounded in Kurt’s office the other day. There seem to be landmines everywhere I step.”

“Tell me about it.” She licked her lips at the landmine that was his beautiful body.

“Should I go fetch your friend to help me pick out a shirt? Or is that something you can handle?”

Common sense said it would be better to “fetch” Clive. Not because she couldn’t pick out a shirt, but doing so felt . . . intimate somehow. It was something a real wife would do for her husband.

None of this was real, she reminded herself. And hadn’t she just given herself a pep talk five minutes earlier about how she wasn’t going to let any of this affect her? She would play the part to perfection and then walk away unscathed.

And Bob’s your uncle,her subconscious whispered.

“I’d be happy to pick something out.”

Chin high, she strutted past him and entered the closet. Except she hadn’t stepped into a closet. At least not like any she’d ever seen in her lifetime. The room was almost as large as the adjacent bedroom, lit by two skylights in the ceiling. Its walls were lined with mahogany shelves, drawers, and hundreds of cubbies for shoes. A tufted ottoman, the size of a kitchen table, took up the center of the space. The space was a woman’s fantasy even without the naked Highlander who inhabited it.

“This flat was once owned by a pro basketball player. He was passionate about his clothing and footwear,” Dex explained a bit sheepishly.

“Ah.” She gestured to the rows of athletic shoes lining half of one wall. “What’s your excuse?”

“Most of those are freebies.” He shrugged unapologetically. “Companies send them hoping I’ll agree to endorse them.”

“Ah,” she repeated, because really, could his life be any sweeter? She had less than ten pairs of shoes to her name. Yet, he had over a hundred pair that would likely never be worn. If she needed another reminder of how different they both were, this was it.

Wandering over to a row of dress shirts hanging on a rod, she plucked off the first one she came to, a soft blue shirt with darker blue pinstripes. With his coloring, the shirt would pop in front of the television cameras. Not that she cared. She just needed him to cover up all of that tantalizing skin so she could think clearly. “This will do.”

He pulled the shirt over his shoulders. “Look, Andi,” he began.

“No, you look,” she interrupted him with a finger jab in the direction of his now covered chest. “You already dictated your rules for this relationship. Now it’s time I lay out a few of mine.”

He paused in the act of buttoning up his shirt, his eyebrow cocked arrogantly once again. “I seem to recall you already proclaiming one. It had something to do with bacon.”

The corners of his mouth were definitely twitching now. The sight stoked her annoyance.

“You will be nice to my friends. At all times. Period.”

He nodded once. “Understood. Anything else?”

Well, damn, his ready agreement took a lot of the bluster out of her sails. “Um . . .”

His dimple practically winked at her as a full-on smile threatened. The rat was enjoying this much more than he should. His amusement added to her irritation.

“As a matter of fact, yes. There will be no more of . . . this.” She waved her fingers in the vicinity of his still unbuttoned shirt.

Both eyebrows were cocked now. “This?”

Her cheeks were on fire, but no way was she backing down after coming this far. “This! Meaning your nakedness. Keep yourself covered up when I’m around. This isn’t a damn locker room.”

He had the audacity to laugh at her. A full belly laugh that actually had him wiping his eyes.

“It’s not funny.” She barely stifled the urge to stomp her foot. “Finish getting dressed and compose yourself so we can get this stupid interview over with.”

She stalked in the direction of the door.

“Andi,” he called after her.

His eyes were still shining with mirth, but at least he was finishing buttoning up his shirt.

“I don’t suppose you’d consider stuttering during the interview?”

What. The. Ever-loving. Hell?Was he serious right now?

“I-I . . . wh-what?” Damn it. Him just mentioning it had her stammering.

He laughed again, and this time she did stomp her foot.

“Argh! Why are men such children.” Spinning on her heel, she stormed out of his bedroom.