Page 74 of The Virgin Rule Book (Rules of Love 1)
An hour later, the blue-eyed, crooked-grin-sporting, steady-handed third baseman and all-around good guy strides through my door, cups my cheeks, and kisses the hell out of me.
I melt into his arms, kissing him back just as hard, just as hungry.
Just as desperately.
It feels so damn good to share this wild, wonderful want with him. I tug on his shirt, drag him to the bedroom, and rip off his clothes.
“I guess I know what you missed the most,” he says, his voice a naughty rasp.
“Find out just how much,” I say, my hands racing over his skin.
And oh, he does find out. He moves over me, sliding into me, and, for the first time ever, filling me with no barriers between us.
We’re even closer like this, even more connected. It’s electric bliss, it’s supercharged lust, and it’s mad, passionate love as we come together.
When we’re done with round one, I drag a hand down his chest. “About your cousin Rachel,” I say.
“What about her?” He tilts his head, curious.
“Well, you said she had a jerk of an ex and liked to keep herself busy by setting other people up.”
“I did say that.”
“I happen to have a very good friend who’s newly single and is a great guy.”
“You don’t say,” he says, catching my meaning.
“Maybe the matchmaker needs us to play matchmaker,” I say, then I tell him more about Matthew and he tells me more about Rachel, and we decide they’d be perfect for each other.
He sends her a text, and I send one to Matthew, and a few minutes later, we’ve arranged a blind date for them.
“Now that we’ve accomplished that, I was thinking we might need some new rules for us,” I say with a smile.
He kisses my shoulder, dragging his lips along my warm skin. “And what would those be?”
“That we have lots of sex,” I say.
“Rule one,” he says with a roll of his eyes.
“That we keep asking for what we want,” I add.
“Rule two.”
“And that maybe I buy your team,” I say.
He cracks up. “You’re joking?”
I laugh too. “I am.”
“Okay, here’s my rule, then,” he says, his tone going serious.
I push up on my elbows, letting him know I’m paying attention. “Hit me up.”
He strokes my hair then grazes his thumb over my jaw. “You let me keep on loving you.”
I kiss his lips, whispering the only possible answer. “Yes.”
Then, I get out of bed and grab a gift from the bureau. Sinking back onto the mattress, I give him a pair of chipmunk socks. “For the season. They’ll be your new lucky socks. Just don’t wear them during sex.”
He cracks up. “Why would I wear lucky socks when I’m already getting lucky?”
Sounds like we have a deal.
Epilogue
Holden
It's a beautiful night in April when Crosby swings by and picks me up to head to an event at the Legion of Honor. Chance is with him too, so we make our way over to the cocktail party benefitting a number of local charities.
Along the way, my agent calls to let me know the Dragons finally hired a new manager.
“Perfect timing. Opening Day is only . . . tomorrow.”
“Better late than never,” he says, then gives me details on the guy. He has a good resumé, and I met him once. He made quite an impact.
Something that had been weighing on me just turned into something awesome. “Excellent choice,” I say to Josh.
As I head into the Legion of Honor with my buds, I tell them all about the new manager.
“Sounds like the baseball buddha,” Crosby says.
I'm grateful to have made good friends in town, and to be playing for a team that’s looking up. I'm determined to do everything I can to keep up the hard work. Nothing can get in my way.
Except, once I head into the event, a familiar silhouette walks into my line of vision.
Blue eyes. Blonde hair. Full lips that I know so well. Lips I explored late one night nearly two years ago. Is it really her? My what-if woman? The one I haven't been able to stop thinking about. I take a step closer. She turns to me. Eyes lock. Skin tingles. It's her. In the flesh. In person. In the same damn town once again. This feels like the start of a second chance.
The woman I’ve never been able to get out of my head.
Another Epilogue
Crosby
A year later
It’s been a hell of a year, and I can’t complain.
I didn’t even need lucky socks to make this fantastic season happen.
I still wear my chipmunks, only they’re not the be-all and end-all anymore. They’re just fun, something I enjoy.
Chipmunk socks, flamingo socks, donkey-wearing-glasses (aka the “smart-ass”) socks . . . Nadia gives me a new pair every month. I give her gifts too.
Every time we go to an event, I give her a new wrap.
