The Bridge to a Better Life (Dare Valley, #8)

Pretty boy Jordan was sleeping in the nude on his stomach, tangled in the covers with one butt cheek sticking out. Zack was sleeping on a blowup bed in the corner by the closet. He must have lost the coin toss.

Blake raised one finger at a time, counting to three, and then he and Sam simultaneously upended the pitcher all over the guys. Atlanta’s marquee quarterback screeched, lashing out with his hands as the water soaked his bed. Zack squealed bloody murder and rolled off onto the floor.

Shoulders shaking with laughter, Blake watched as Jordan rose onto his haunches and glared at him.

“Payback’s a bitch,” he said, letting one eyebrow rise.

“You guys so suck,” Zack shouted, tossing water-soaked pillows and sheets in their direction.

“How does it feel to be wearing the same underwear, Ace?” Jordan fired back.

The man never cried uncle. It was what made him a great player. Sack him, and he sneered.

“About as great as an ice bath to the privates. Brunch is ready.” With that, Blake left the room, Sam chuckling as he followed him out.

The guys were stuffing their faces when they came back into the room. He spotted Natalie in the corner of the kitchen, fiddling with a container of something. All of her assistants were gone. She must have sent them home since everything was laid out. He wondered why she was lingering. Did she want to talk to him? His heart clutched with hope.

Logan set aside his bagel with a grin. “How badly did you get Jordan?”

“Pretty bad, from the sound of it,” Grant said. “Zack could have doubled for some exotic bird.”

“Must be all those Vegas entertainers he’s been dating.” Blake affected a hard gleam in his eyes as he scanned the group. “Let that be a warning. Next time you want to decorate my tree with my briefs do me a favor and leave one clean pair for me to wear. These jeans chafe like hell.”

The guys all laughed, and Natalie looked over, her eyes wide. Then she stepped over to the window and looked out, likely to see the spectacle. She was biting her lip when she turned around. When she waggled her finger at him, he walked over without hesitation, as if she were a magnet.

“I’ll go get you some new briefs,” she whispered when he lowered his head to hear her.

His mouth parted in surprise. “You don’t have to do that.”

“What are you going to do? Climb the tree and wash them? I know you. The guys touched your briefs, and I think I saw a few robins perching on a red pair.”

Ugh. He hadn’t thought about the birds. Or the guys’ hands.

“I can have my assistant get some tomorrow,” he told her. “Be faster than the mail.” The tips of his ears burned as he considered what it would be like to ask her. Usually he ordered them online himself, which Natalie had reason to know.

Three years ago someone had taken a picture of him buying his briefs at Cherry Creek Mall and tweeted it. The picture had instantly gone viral. His fans had started tweeting about switching to his brand for good luck on game day, and several had shared pics. If there was one thing he didn’t need to see in a pic, it was a hairy man with a big belly pointing at the waistband of his briefs.

“I know…what you like.” Her cheeks flushed, putting a dent in her gray pallor. “And I owe you. After last night.”

“I told you, you don’t owe me,” he said as Jordan walked into the kitchen and glared at him. He shot him a wide-toothed smile.

“I know, but I want to do this, Blake. I’ll send Touchdown over when I leave for the store. He was taking a nap.”

The dog probably hadn’t slept much better than Blake. Maybe he was as confused as Blake was about this whole situation. Still, after last night, Blake could feel the simple bonds of intimacy wrapping around them once more. Here he was, talking with her in the kitchen about buying his briefs. He had to remind himself she was his ex-wife, but in truth, he didn’t think of her that way. Never had.

His gaze dropped to her mouth, and he wanted so badly to kiss her, just a simple husband-and-wife thank-you kiss, for being in the kitchen while he hosted his friends, for running personal errands for him. For being his partner. Her lashes lowered, and he knew she was aware of him. Then she licked her lips. Lightning struck. She always licked her lips when she was thinking about kissing him in public.

Stepping back was a challenge, but if he planned to win her back—and he did—he had to give her the space to realize she wanted him back. All the way.

“Thanks, Nat. Just text me when you return, and I’ll jog over to get them. I don’t want the guys commandeering them and adding them to that poor tree out back. Do you think it’s embarrassed?”

A puzzled crease appeared between her brows. “Who?”

“The tree.”

A shy smile played up those gorgeous lips of hers. “Maybe. I’ll just…head out.”

He clenched his hands to stop them from reaching for her. She moved by him so slowly, he felt her body heat penetrate his sensitized skin.

Ava Miles's books