Page 25 of Game Plan
I grimaced again. I considered that. This could turn out badly. I was almost certain it wouldn't, though. She made it clear she hated me. At the end of this, the best I could hope was that she'd hate me a bit less.
"If you lose, you get to see her more often, giving her all those stories. Seems like you'll end up seeing a lot more of her either way." Bam’s eyebrows rose in a silent query, as if I was supposed to know what he was getting at.
"Did you have a question?" I asked.
"Yeah. What's in it for her?"
"Prestige," I said jokingly. "She gets to be seen with me."
"No, really," Bam said. He propped his elbow on the arm of the chair and rested his chin on two fingers. The expression on his face was a definite, 'don't fuck around with women's feelings, 'cause I know where you live and I will tell her.'
When did he get so fucking noble?
"You're a hard man," I said. "She gets to build her career."
"Is that the only reason she took your bet?" He steepled three fingers against his cheek, his thumb under his chin, and cocked his head.
"What other reason would there be?" That question niggled at the back of my mind too. She wouldn't be the first woman who used me to further themselves, and Iwasthe one who suggested it. Maybe I should be the one to plead temporary insanity.
I wasn't lying when I said I would do anything I could to win the bet. Sure, I thought about the consequences, but more than that, I wanted to win. This whole situation could easily get out of control. Bam was right, my ego might get me in trouble. This time, I was walking in, headfirst, eyes open.
"You really don't want to consider she's doing this because she likes you already, do you?" he asked. His expression was serious. He looked like he might actually punch me if I screwed around with her and broke her heart. Again.
"I'm sure," I said firmly. "She knows what she's doing. Think about it this way: I'm making up for being a dick to her back in school. She'll thank me when she's got theNational Daily's readers eating out of her hand. Her boss is gonna love it."
"You could just give her those exclusives," Bam pointed out.
I thought of that and had an answer ready. "If I gave them to her, she'd wonder why. She'd assume I'm up to something. This way, she gets them fair and square. No strings."
"‘Said the spider to the fly,’" Bam quoted.
"I'm big, but I don't have eight appendages." I shifted my feet and gave Bam a smug smile.
"Just eight brain cells," Bam teased.
"Ouch." I chuckled. "Better than eight hands. Those really would get me into trouble."Though with Becca’s curves, she might appreciate them…
My brain really didn’t know when to shut up.
"Amen to that, brother." His eyes widened. "Be handy for catching the ball though."
"Yeah." I sniffed the air as the smell of food wafted past. Once, I would have sighed that the neighbour's dinner smelled so good, then go in and burn some toast.
Kyla had actually been the one to suggest her aunt's friend come and work for me as housekeeper and cook. Best decision I made since buying this place. My mom tried to teach me to cook, back before… When I was a kid.
"No son of mine is going out in the world without basic life skills," she said.
Then I almost burnt down the kitchen and she didn't let me back in, except to grab a snack. Even then, she would keep her eye on me. Maybe her nickname should have been Hawk. She had the vision for it.
"Something smells good." Bam's drawl was more pronounced when he was hungry. "I might have to coax Aunt Dolores away from you."
"Get your own Aunt Dolores," I told him. "I already know she's the only reason you stop by for dinner so often."
"Well, it ain't for your shining company," he said with a smirk. "It's for the good of my belly." He patted a stomach as flat and firm as my own.
"I think I should be offended." I rubbed a hand over the back of my head.
"If you don't know an insult when you hear one, maybe eight brain cells was being generous." Bam grinned.
