The Perfect Play

“In your dreams, pumpkin.”


“Wuss. You’re just afraid I’ll show you up because I’m a star with the long pass and you’re an old man now.”

“You and me. Backyard. Tomorrow.”

Jenna grinned and nodded. “You’re on. Now go away so I can get some work done. Tara, great meeting you.”

“You, too, Jenna. I’ll be there to see you kick his butt.”

Jenna looked up at Mick. “Oh, I like this woman.”

Mick flicked his gaze to Tara. “I can’t believe you’d root against me.”

Tara shrugged. “Girl power, you know.”

Mick laughed and put his arm around her.

“So where’s the birthday boy?”

“He’ll stroll in late as usual so he can make an entrance. He likes to be the center of attention. Middle child syndrome, I think.”

While Jenna went off to serve some drinks, Tara looked to Mick. “You and Gavin seem to get along well.”

“Heh. You should have seen us when we were kids. There was no getting along then. We competed over everything, from sports to toys to attention from our parents.”

“Some boys outgrow that.”

He grinned at her. “Some do.”

“And what about your sister? She must have had it hard having two big brothers. Were you overprotective of her?”

He shook his head. “She never gave us a chance. She just tossed herself in the pile and mixed it up with the two of us. Or tried to, anyway. The girl has no fear.”

“Obviously, if she can handle herself with the two of you, she can probably handle anything.”

“Yeah, we never had to worry about her taking care of herself.”

Over the next hour or so, Tara was introduced to Mick’s aunts and uncles and cousins and more people than she could ever possibly remember. The good thing was, there were some kids around Nathan’s age, so Mick made a point of introducing him to them. They seemed to hit it off, and Tara breathed a sigh of relief that he wouldn’t be the only teenager here tonight.

At the moment he was sitting at a table with a group of about six kids ranging in age from twelve to seventeen, all of them shoveling food into their mouths, drinking soda, and laughing. God, she loved seeing her son smile and laugh. It was all too rare these days.

“He’s fine. Quit worrying.”

“I’m not worrying at all. I’m ... blissful, I guess is the word.” She turned to Mick. “You have an amazing family. Thank you for this weekend.”

He cupped her cheeks and brought her face to his. “You’re welcome. Thanks for coming with me.”

He brushed his lips across hers, and Tara breathed in his scent, wishing she could do more than lightly kiss him. While this weekend had been fun and she’d loved meeting his family, they hadn’t had more than a few seconds of alone time. She missed that, craved having time to do more than hold hands and steal a few short kisses.

When he pulled back, she saw the heat flare in his eyes and knew he thought the same thing.

“We’re going to need to steal an hour in a closet or the basement or something.”

She laughed. “I’d be down with that.”

“And if I keep thinking all the dirty thoughts I’m thinking about you, I’m going to get a hard-on in front of my entire family.”

She batted her lashes at him. “I’m not making you think those thoughts.”

“You don’t have to do anything but look at me like you want to eat me. Or fuck me.”

Tara shuddered an inhale, lightly pressing her fingertips against his chest and leaned in to whisper to him. “Stop talking like that. You’re making me wet.”

Mick looked around the room, then back at her. “I have an idea. How about we—”

“Well, I finally get to meet this mystery woman you’ve been spending all your time with.”

“Elizabeth.”

Tara spun around to face one stunningly beautiful woman. She wore a black suit that fit her perfect curves. Her red hair was pulled up in a French twist, her nails manicured, and the shoes she wore were not at all knockoff, but designer, with killer heels made to show off her dynamite legs. Tara might be a woman, but she could appreciate another beautiful woman, and Elizabeth was sex on stilettos. And she was a sports agent? Good Lord, those poor owners never stood a chance once they locked onto her ice blue eyes.

“Hi, sweetie,” she said to Tara, holding out a creamy hand. “I’m Elizabeth Darnell, Mick’s agent.”

Warning bells went off in Tara’s head right off the bat. From the scrutinizing look in Elizabeth’s eyes, she could tell the woman didn’t like her. She plastered on a professional smile and shook her hand. “Nice to meet you, Miss Darnell.”

“Oh, call me Liz. All the women in Mick’s life do.”

Zing. Clearly she wanted Tara to know that she was one in a string of many women Mick was fucking. “How nice.”

“Why are you here, Liz?” Mick asked.

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