Sullivans 06 - Let Me Be the One

your dress, obviously.”
    Now it was her turn to joke, “Just as long as you kept your eyes closed.”
    The lacy undergarments were her big post-divorce splurge, a last-ditch effort to try to feel the slightest bit sexy again. Now, even though they weren’t exactly practical, she wore them as often as she could simply because they’d been so expensive and she was hell bent on getting her money’s worth out of them.
    She couldn’t help wondering if he’d liked what he saw, even though she knew tall, brunette, size-four supermodels were his type rather than small, blonde, curvy girls like her.
    He held his hands up as if to admit that he had, in fact, taken a peek or two. “Sorry about that. Forgive me?”
    If he had been anyone else and she hadn’t been horribly, excruciatingly attracted to him—say, if he were gay—she would be rolling with this no problem.
    Yes, that was what she’d do.
    She’d pretend he was gay.
    Or that she was.
    Actually, it would probably be safer just to pretend both of them were completely, utterly into their own team.
    Forcing herself to shrug, she teased, “Just so you know, the next time I fall asleep on you, I sleep best with nothing on at all.”
    Ryan choked on the bite of eggs he’d just taken and she silently cursed herself for saying exactly the wrong thing to diffuse the situation.
    “So,” she said a little too brightly, “what’s on your agenda today? Practice? Or a game?” She crammed a huge handful of bacon into her mouth to make herself shut up.
    Ryan drank some coffee to wash down the rest of the eggs before saying, “There’s an afternoon game.”
    “Are you pitching?”
    “Tomorrow night. Any chance you can make it?”
    “I can’t today, but hopefully tomorrow.” She’d never been a baseball fan until she’d seen him play in high school from her spot in the shadows of the big oak tree some distance back from the field and stands. “The board will be coming by this afternoon to check in on all of this year’s fellowship contenders.”
    Ryan’s expression tightened. “Is James going to be there?” When she nodded, he said, “Make sure you don’t end up alone with him, Vicki.”
    “Don’t worry,” she said, “I’m not going to be that stupid ever again.”
    “He tricked you.”
    “Maybe, but I should have known better, enough to at least trust my instincts about him when he gave me the creeps at the studio. In any case, between his thinking you and I are an item and all the people that will be at the studio this afternoon, I can’t imagine he’d try anything.”
    “He’d better not.” Her friend’s expression was fierce. “You mean too much to me. Why don’t you give me the address of the studio, just in case.”
    He’d just typed it into his phone when it rang.
    “It’s my cousin. Sorry, I need to take this.” He put the phone to his ear. “Rafe, hold on a sec.”
    He rattled around in a kitchen drawer and pulled out a set of car keys. “I wish I could take you back and forth from the studio, but now that I’ve moved you way out to the edge of the city, why don’t you use one of my cars so you’re not stuck on my schedule?”
    She knew he was right, that it didn’t make sense for her to try to get from Sea Cliff to the Mission on the bus. But as she took the keys, she felt more and more like she was taking advantage of him. Not only was he playing her fake boyfriend, but he’d also given her an oceanfront mansion to live in and now she held the keys to one of the shiny cars in his garage.
    Ryan gave her an absentminded kiss on her cheek before he walked away, but she could tell he’d all but forgotten her as he walked off to talk with his cousin.
    Vicki took their plates over to the sink, then washed and dried them while trying to enjoy the view of the morning sun over the ocean despite feeling like a complete interloper.
    As she watched the gold and green and blue water merge, then break against the shore, a buzzing began just beneath her skin.
    It was that feeling she got when inspiration hit. Big-time inspiration.
    She rushed back up to the bedroom to put on some flip-flops and grab her bag. Even the luxurious interior of the Porsche convertible Ryan had given her to drive barely registered as she raced against traffic toward the parking garage nearest to the studio.
    She’d waited so long to feel this rush of inspiration again that she could literally feel the energy about to burst from her fingers.
    Vicki