Grace said quickly. “Did you hear Adam has arranged for a few celebrities to come play in the charity basketball tournament to raise money for the school’s gym?”
Sue-Ellen smiled and the expression almost reached her eyes. “Thank you, Adam, for doing that.”
“It was no problem. To be honest, it was Christian’s idea.”
Sue-Ellen’s son was one of the many students who were working hard to keep the school going.
“I think he had an ulterior motive. He’s a huge Bottle Rocket fan,” Sue-Ellen said, naming one of the bands on Adam’s record label. She was being friendly, but Grace sensed disapproval under the surface.
Grace knew practically his entire artist base thanks to some time spent on the Internet. She wasn’t surprised to hear that Sue-Ellen’s son, a junior, had come up with the idea. She wondered if Sue-Ellen realized how badly her son wanted the school to stay open. If she knew how much the changes in their personal lives over the last two years had affected her son.
“It was a great suggestion,” Grace said.
Sue-Ellen flushed at the compliment to her son. “I’m so impressed at the way he’s gotten involved with saving the school.”
“You should be proud of him,” Adam said.
“I am. I’ll see you both at the meeting on Thursday, right?”
“Yes,” Grace said. “I’m looking forward to hearing all the parents’ ideas.”
Sue-Ellen moved on. Adam made no move to go back to the box to watch the rest of the game.
“Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?” he asked, pulling her out of the walkway and into the shadows.
“No. Why would you think that?” she asked. Her back was against the wall. He leaned closer to her, putting one arm on either side of her head, caging her with his body. She put her hand on his chest to keep him from coming any closer. Because she wanted more than anything to say to hell with Sue-Ellen and Malcolm and the morality patrol and just give in to the temptation that was Adam.
“Your comments to Sue-Ellen made it seem like we weren’t on a date,” he said, canting his hips forward so that he was nestled against the center of her body. Flashes of light flickered in from the arena. Or was that her, reacting to him?
“Good. The last thing we need is for anyone to know that you and I are dating. That’s the kind of publicity the school doesn’t need,” she said. Even to her own ears, her voice sounded breathless.
“Why good? This feels like a date to me, Gracie.”
She was mesmerized by the latent passion in his eyes and leaned up toward him. Brushed her lips over his once and then again. She had never had a man so completely take over every part of her life before. She suspected that Adam didn’t even know that he was doing it.
He kept his lips out of reach. “Explain to me about Sue-Ellen.”
“She’s reporting everything I do to Malcolm.”
“I didn’t realize it was that bad. You don’t have to pretend we aren’t dating.”
“Are we dating?”
“I think I just said we were.”
“We’ve only had dinner once. And now, the game. It’s not like we’ve really had a chance to get to know one another.”
“We know each other intimately,” Adam said, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her fully into his body. He lowered his head and brushed his lips over hers. “Don’t we, Grace?”
She knew he was asking her something important, but she couldn’t think or answer. She just wanted to lose herself in this moment and in this man. This was what she’d been wanting when she put those photos on her mantel, snapshots of a life that wasn’t really her own. She’d always craved this. This, what she felt right now with Adam.
And she knew exactly what this was. A feeling of belonging and acceptance that had been missing all of her life.
Adam lifted his head after a long moment had passed. He drew her out of the shadows, leading her down the hallway and toward the exit. “Let’s get out of here.”
Adam parked his car at the curb in front of Grace’s house. A quiet had fallen between them as they’d left American Airlines Center. He didn’t know what to say to her, unusual for him. He usually had no problem filling awkward silences with small talk. But he and Grace had somehow moved beyond small talk and now he had nothing to say. No way to communicate with words. The charm that he usually employed with women wasn’t going to be enough.
She watched him with her wide, wounded eyes and he knew that he couldn’t leave her. Not tonight, he told himself, but a part of him recognized that as a lie.
“Thanks for taking me to the game,” she said in that quiet, polite way of hers.
“It was my pleasure. I’d like to take you out again tomorrow night,” he said, stretching his arm along the back of her seat. She tipped her head to the side.
“I could make us dinner at my place.”
“I’d like that. I’ll bring the wine.”
She smiled at him and for a moment he felt something that he hadn’t realized had been missing in his life. A sense of total normalcy. Like they were just two people dating. Like there were no secrets between them. No lies that were quietly waiting to jump out.
On one level it angered him because he knew that the lies were his own and having been on the other side, having been the person who’d been lied to, he knew how much that was going to hurt. Unless he could figure out a way to make Grace tell him about the erotic story. Her fantasy of being his mistress.
“What’s your dream date?” he asked.
She quirked one of her eyebrows at him and licked her lower lip. “Something like tonight, I guess.”
“You guess?” he asked, flirting with her. Finding his rhythm in the new, easy way she held herself. This was something he knew how to do.
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Are you going to invite me in for a nightcap?”
She gathered her purse from the floor and opened it pulling out her keys. “I wasn’t planning on it.”
“Come on, Gracie. I want to hear what you’d change about tonight.” He turned off the car and leaned back in the seat to watch her, his hand stretched over the back of her headrest. Her flowery perfume filled the air, and when she moved her head strands of her hair rubbed over his wrist. He wanted to wrap his hand in her hair to not have to play the waiting game that dating couples did. Instead he wanted to claim her, to throw her over his shoulder and take her to bed.
In her fantasies he already had. Even in his own, he’d claimed her. He wanted her with a bone-deep fascination that made everything else pale. He needed to be inside her silky curvy body, marking her as his own. Finding a way to bind her to him. He didn’t
