Game for It: Game for Trouble Part 6

"It is way too late for your bulls.h.i.+t," Jared muttered in greeting, his voice filling the interior of the car.

"Nice to talk to you too." Nick sighed and swiped a hand over his face. Thank G.o.d for Bluetooth. "I need your advice."

"What?"

Nick ignored his question. "How do I make a woman like me?"

"Are you serious?" Jared burst out laughing. "I thought all the women were wanting you now that I'm off the market."

"Arrogant a.s.s." Nick chuckled. "I'm talking about one woman in particular. We went out on a date and she kicked me out of her house."

"Okay," Jared said slowly. "I'm guessing you're talking about Willow? The woman you should avoid like the plague, since she essentially hates your guts? I think you should be glad she kicked you out."

"Yep. Willow. And there's no way I can avoid her. It's too late. I gotta have her." He should've never called his friend. Then Jared would tell Sheridan and Sheridan would tell Willow and he'd be in a world of hurt.

With the way his c.o.c.k still throbbed beneath his fly, maybe it didn't matter. He was in a world of hurt regardless.

"I told you she needed to get laid," Jared said, sounding exasperated. "Why didn't you use some of that Hamilton charm and get her into bed?"

Willow isn't like other women. She doesn't fall for the charm, the drawl, the swagger. It doesn't matter how badly I want her.

She doesn't want me back.

Nick could hear rustling, a soft feminine murmur in the background before the phone was quite clearly taken out of Jared's hand and Sheridan's voice came over the speaker. "Just keep doing what you're doing, Nick."

"You aren't supposed to know any of this. You'll just tell her I called." Misery coursed through him. He couldn't get this right with Willow no matter how hard he tried. He was sweet to her, and she wanted to kick his a.s.s. He was rude to her, and she wanted to kick his a.s.s. The woman had him coming and going, and he never knew where he was supposed to be next.

It was frustrating as all get out.

"I won't tell her. I promise! I'm on your side," Sheridan said firmly. "This thing with Willow, you need to take it slow. You need to woo her."

"Are you serious?" He remembered how it had been with Willow the first time around. Hot and pa.s.sionate and s.e.xy and spontaneous. He'd never wooed her once. Just kissed her, slipped his hand into her panties, and bingo. They were going at it, no problem.

But they were younger then. Things change. Needs change. More than anything, he wanted to be exactly what Willow needed.

"Dead serious," Sheridan said firmly. "You can do this, Hamilton. I believe in you."

"You do?" he asked weakly.

"Definitely. I believe in you, I believe in Willow, and I really, really believe the two of you will make a great couple. Just...don't rush her. If she rushes you, it's just her way of proving, that, hey, look! All he wants from me is an easy lay. I mean nothing to him," Sheridan explained. "Prove her wrong. Show her you want more than that."

"I do want more than that," he said firmly, hope rising within him. d.a.m.n, Sheridan was pretty good with the inspirational speech. He wondered if Jared gave her pointers.

"Good. I figured you did. Trust me, I understand her. She needs a man as strong as she is. All those wimpy guys she dated in the past, they weren't worthy of her," Sheridan said.

He couldn't stand the thought of Willow with any dude, wimpy or not. "You're d.a.m.n right they weren't."

Sheridan actually giggled. "Just keep doing what you're doing. And know that I'm in your corner, cheering you on."

"Hey Sheridan?"

"Yeah?"

"Tell your man he's a lucky b.a.s.t.a.r.d." Sheridan burst into laughter and Nick joined in with her. "And thank you."

"Any time."

Chapter Six.

"It looks fabulous, Willow. I can't believe how much you've done in such a short amount of time." Sheridan glanced around the big room, surprise written all over her face. "I bet you're so excited to start actually packaging everything in here. I know it's been a pain, trying to manage your business in your house. Now you have so much s.p.a.ce."

Willow nodded enthusiastically, running her hand along one of the giant supply tables she'd recently had delivered. "I'm beyond excited. Tomorrow we start production. This weekend has been insane. Did I tell you? I worked a bachelorette party last night that was held in a suite at the Plaza, and I made what felt like a bazillion cotton candy c.o.c.ktails. I have never seen so many crazed drunk women in one small room in all my life."

It had been fun. So many women had asked for her business card, she'd almost run out. Her father had just asked her when she talked to him on the phone earlier this morning why she was the one who made the drinks. Couldn't any old bartender do the same thing she was doing?

His words had felt like a personal insult. No. Not any old bartender could do what she did. She not only made the cotton candy from scratch, she made the drinks too. The business was hers. All hers. Besides, she didn't have the money to hire out a huge staff to help her.

Yet.

Sheridan laughed. "Sounds like fun. What else did you do?"

"Did set-up in here all weekend." True. Brought a little TV with her too so she could watch the Hawks game. They won. Nick scored one touchdown and almost made a second when someone from the opposing team shoved him, and he stepped out of bounds. He'd been angry. She saw it written all over his gorgeous face.

She'd watched him play in awe, forgetting all about the job she needed to do.

Like, you know, set up her business. Organize her entire future.

"It's going to be so amazing. Have you thought of opening up the storefront as a venue on the weekends or maybe after hours? You can make it a small s.p.a.ce for people to reserve for parties featuring your specialty c.o.c.ktails. Maybe you can work with another catering company and have them bring horse d'oeuvres and stuff." Sheridan clapped her hands together. "We need to schedule another girls night out at my studio! You can provide the c.o.c.ktails, pa.s.s out business cards with the new address. Oh, that would be a great way for you to get new people over here."

Sheridan ran cla.s.ses and parties in her art studio, teaching people of all ages how to paint. Her cla.s.s schedules had turned into an antic.i.p.ated event when she announced them every month. She tried to hold a monthly girls night out, and Willow always provided her cotton candy signature c.o.c.ktail.

Willow had thought about offering to work another girls night, but never felt right in out and out asking her friend. She knew Sheridan had a lot on her plate, especially lately, what with being newly married to a high profile football star.

She could almost relate, though her relations.h.i.+p with Nick was a little tricky. As in, they really didn't have a relations.h.i.+p beyond seven more dates, the potential for a lot of arguing, and the delicious possibility of o.r.g.a.s.ms.

"I'd love to know what's running through your mind at this very moment. You have a dreamy sort of look on your face," Sheridan said, knocking Willow from her thoughts.

"Please." Willow waved her hand, dismissing her friend's statement. "Nothing special."

"Oh, I don't know about that. Looked like something special to me. Or someone." Sheridan went to the big window that faced the parking lot of the shopping center, her back to Willow. "Have you seen Nick lately?"

Yes, I had him pinned against my door, kissing him before I kicked him, out and he left me a shaky, out-of-breath mess. Why do you ask?

"Beyond our first date, no," Willow said carefully. "He's been sort of busy, what with that game he just played earlier today." It was late Sunday afternoon and they were playing out of town. How in the world could she have seen Nick lately?

"You never did tell me how that went. Did he take you to Jared's favorite pizza place?"

"Um, he did." She'd wondered if that had been a crock of s.h.i.+t but looked like Nick had been telling the truth.

Why did she always doubt him?

"I love that restaurant. It's so quaint and intimate." Sheridan turned to face her. "Have you two fallen back into bed yet?"

"What? Sheridan, of course not." If her friend kept drilling her, she would confess that no, they hadn't but wow, she really wished they had. And making that sort of confession was a bad thing. Then she would have to face the barrage of questions, and she wasn't sure if she was up to it. If she'd ever be up to it.

"Come on, you can tell me. You seem pretty relaxed today. Last time I saw you, you were wound up tight." Sheridan flashed her a knowing smile.

Willow clenched her teeth. Why did everyone think she was such a tense wreck? She'd been busy, yes, but nothing out of the ordinary. "I'm good. Really. Everything's much better now that I have this place, and I know I can move forward with my plans. So much of my tension has been wrapped up in the unknown fate of my business, you know?"

"Sure." Sheridan nodded. She didn't look like she believed Willow whatsoever. "I bet some good s.e.x helped too, right?"

"We didn't have s.e.x." Willow hissed the last word. And she wasn't lying. They didn't have s.e.x. "Stop, okay?"

"Whoa, defensive." Sheridan held her hands up in front of her. "Don't need to take all your aggression out on me."

Willow parted her lips, ready to dump everything that had happened on her friend so she could shut her up, when her cell rang. Racing for it over on one of the side tables, she answered, not recognizing the phone number. "h.e.l.lo."

"Is this Sweet Treats?"

c.r.a.p. It was Sunday-she didn't expect a business call. First thing on her list tomorrow: get a business phone line.

"Yes, this is Sweet Treats. How may I help you?" She put on her best professional voice, earning a big smile from her friend for her efforts.

"My daughter is having a bachelorette party in December in Las Vegas," the man started. "And I was wondering if you were available."

Willow ran to her desk and sat behind it, flipping through her schedule book until she came to December. "What date did you have in mind? I'm pretty booked through the month, what with the holidays and all."

"The twenty-first, but we'll need you there the entire weekend, if we can get you. It's going to be a big party." He paused. "Huge."

Her mind racing, she saw she had a birthday party already scheduled on the afternoon of the twenty-first and a holiday open house that evening. Not to mention the corporate event on the twentieth and another party on the twenty-second. But she could have her two new employees help handle it. By then, she could also hire more employees to help cover everything. "Um, how big are we talking?" She wanted to make sure it would be worth her while.

"Five hundred people, give or take?"

She swallowed hard. "Wow, you weren't lying when you said huge."

He chuckled. "My daughter knows a lot of people. So do I."

"Well, that sounds amazing. Would you like to come to my office and meet sometime this week so we could discuss the matter further?" She smiled when Sheridan gave her an enthusiastic thumbs-up.

"Absolutely. That sounds perfect," the man said warmly.

"Your name, sir?" She grabbed a pen. "And what day would you like to meet?"

"Are you open tomorrow morning?"

"Uhh..." She glanced around the room. It may have looked a thousand times better than it did a few days ago, but it was still somewhat of a mess.

"I'm going out of the country on Tuesday and I'll be gone for two weeks," he added.

"Tomorrow sounds perfect but if we could make it for the afternoon?" She could scramble and straighten this place up more for her appointment between now and tomorrow morning. She might collapse from exhaustion but she could do it.

Never mind her date with Nick tomorrow night. Maybe he could take her to a movie and she could nap through the whole thing...

"Absolutely. Oh, and my name is Phil Whitmore."

Oh. s.h.i.+t.

She knew Phillip Whitmore. Well, more like she knew of him. She'd gone to high school with his daughter, though the girl was two years younger. A spoiled little princess who got whatever she wanted, Amanda Whitmore was a real piece of work.

The Whitmores were a big deal in the community. As in, they had a tremendous amount of money and were big philanthropists. Doing a party for the Whitmore family could make a difference in her business for the next year. The access to contacts and referrals alone could be nothing short of amazing.

"Does two o'clock sound good to you, Mr. Whitmore?" She gave him the address to her new location, and he said he'd use GPS to find it.

"Sounds perfect. I look forward to meeting you tomorrow, Willow."

It wasn't until at least fifteen minutes later she realized he knew her name-and she'd never said it once. Was he a friend of her dad's? Or did he just know who she was? The town was pretty small, after all...

Could her father have directed Phil Whitmore to her business out of some sort of sympathy deal? She liked how he stayed out of her business beyond the occasional, "let me give you lots of money so you never have to worry again" offer. She didn't know whether to be pleased or angry. Her father wanted the best for her but sometimes, he tried to manage her life a little too closely.

And she didn't like it.

"You were outrageous on the field today." Jared clapped Nick on the back as he walked by.

"Right back at ya," Nick tossed over his shoulder, slamming his locker extra hard. The rattling sound did nothing to soothe his agitated nerves. Not that he thought it would. He'd been stomping around the entire weekend, amped up over his night with Willow. Taking all of his s.e.xual frustration out on the field. On the ball, on other players, on the fans...everyone.

He'd even yelled at his mama when she called first thing this morning to wish him good luck at the game. After giving him a good scolding, she'd hung up on him and he'd promptly received a call from his dad about good manners and how he should always treat a lady-specifically his mother-like a queen.

Nick called her right back and apologized. Then continued to ponder for a good part of the morning, reimagining his night with Willow. Instead of him walking out on her, in his imagination, he took it much further.

Dragging her back to her bedroom and pus.h.i.+ng her onto the bed. She'd lie in the middle of the mattress, watching him with those hot dark eyes as he quickly undressed. Then he would climb on top of her, kiss her everywhere, and proceed to drive her out of her ever lovin' mind with l.u.s.t until finally, finally he would...

"Are you all right? You've been acting all day like your a.s.s is on fire and someone is chasing it."

Nick glanced to his right to find his coach standing there, a grim expression on his face. Just great. "Isn't that what you want? Me running like my a.s.s is on fire?"

"Hey, I'm not complaining. You were working the Hamilton ball-handling magic hardcore on the field today. But you're also acting all down and out off the field and that's not like you. You're our go-to guy. The cheerful one," Walsh explained.

"Sometimes even the cheerful one has a bad day, right?" He had no idea these high expectations were piled on top of him. He'd just always...been himself. Now he was feeling out of sorts and everyone freaking noticed.

"Not you, Nick. Never you." Walsh shook his head. "Even when you're having a s.h.i.+t day, you're always pretty d.a.m.n cheerful. So I'm wondering if something is going on. Your family doing okay? Got some personal problems that are messing with your head?"