Page 55 of Tempting the Player
They were going back to his place.
Bridget was going to stay the night.
Tonight was going to be a very, very long night.
“Do you think people are waiting outside?” she asked as they neared the front door.
“Ah…” He stretched up to see beyond some dumbass bronze wall. A light snow fell outside, blanketing the sidewalk. Waiting on the curb were two men huddled down in their jackets, cigarettes in hand and cameras around their necks. Speaking of jackets…
Chad looked down at Bridget and frowned. “Where is your jacket?”
She shrugged. “I don’t like them.”
“It’s snowing outside.”
“Is it?” Her eyes popped wide as she craned her neck. Glee lit up her face. “Oh! It is! I love the snow.”
But not Christmas, apparently, he thought. “You should be wearing a jacket.”
“You’re not,” she pointed out as he led her around the bronze wall and past a group of businessmen who looked like they were seconds away from pouncing on Chad.
“I’m a guy.”
Her answering huff brought a grin to his face. Outside, he pulled her under his arm and tucked her close while the valet got the car. Of course it was just because of the snow and she had to be cold and there were the picture people, snapping away, and no other reason than that. Excuses. Excuses.
“Hey, Chad!” one of the photographers called out.
He turned at the waist, recognizing the young guy who usually covered the games. “What’s up, Morgan? You’re a little far from the stadium, aren’t you?”
Morgan grinned as he swaggered closer, his gaze moving to Bridget and then darting back to Chad, but not fast enough that Chad missed it. “Nothing’s going on tonight, so they got me stalking you.”
“Made your life, didn’t it?” Chad could practically hear Bridget’s eyes roll.
“You’re a big deal.” Morgan glanced at Bridget again. Snow dotted her hair and cheeks like a transparent veil. Morgan extended his hand to her. “I’m Morgan—Chad’s favorite photographer.”
Bridget smiled and shook his hand. “I didn’t know he had favorites.”
“He’s just shy about his affections, especially when it comes to talking about you. Everyone is dying to get your name.”
She glanced up at Chad and then took a deep breath. “Bridget Rodgers. Pleasure to meet Chad’s favorite stalker.”
Morgan laughed, and Chad knew Morgan was filing that name away by the look of eagerness on the photo-hag’s face. Luckily, before more questions could be asked, the valet showed up and Chad got Bridget in the Jeep. He blasted the heat as she ran her hands through her hair and back from her face as she smoothed the tiny snowflakes out of her hair. The motion arched her back, thrusting her chest out. The front of her sweater stretched, and it was a damn good thing he wasn’t driving yet because he was like a sixteen-year-old-boy and—
“There’s no turning back now,” Bridget said, lowering her arms. She looked at him. “Right?”
Chad dragged his gaze to her face. Yeah, there was no turning back.
“Now that they know my name?” she added, brows arched. “There’s no turning back.”
Oh. Yeah. Right. She wasn’t talking about her and him, heading back to his place. Chad nodded. “No. There’s probably no turning back.”
As he pulled into traffic, Bridget twisted in her seat. They went about a block and her brows furrowed as she faced the front. “Are we being followed?”
His gaze flicked to the rearview mirror. A dark Suburban that had been parked along the curb at Tony’s and Tony’s was right behind them. “It’s not Morgan. Probably the guy who was outside with him.”
“Man, Miss Gore really knows her stuff.“
It was why Bridget was staying the night and would be for at least three more weekends. “If they can get pictures of you going into my place and leaving in the morning, then it’s the real deal.”
