“That I better leave her satisfied and begging for more?” Ryan shook his head.
Shawn barked out a laugh. “You’re probably right.”
His sister was something else. Jo didn’t view things like most people did. It was exactly why he’d never mention his…crush. The term almost made him wince. It felt like a twelve-year-old’s problem. But honestly, Ryan had been crushing hard on Bridget for a solid eight years. A chance meeting at his nephew’s birthday party put Bridget front and center in every fantasy he’d had since.
“In all seriousness,” Shawn continued, leaning his forearms against the bar and glaring. “We all love Bridg, so if she ends up hurt—if she’s just another in your long line of conquests—you’ll be persona non grata around here faster than your curve ball hits the mitt.”
Ryan’s jaw locked. Okay, so his reputation with women wasn’t great. It was kind of shit, honestly, but it had nothing to do with Bridg.
“We used to be teammates. You’re gonna choose a chick over me?” Ryan joked. After a career-ending injury, Shawn had left the LA Dodgers and major league baseball. Ryan had suggested the Silver Lining as a pit stop for Shawn while he figured out what he wanted to do next.
“What can I say?” Shawn shrugged. “She’s not just my boss. Bridget’s gold, man.”
Ryan glanced back over his shoulder at the woman in the burgundy dress. Shawn was right. The soft fabric gripped every one of Bridget’s killer curves before it hugged her ass. And damn, the woman had an ass that made him want to drop to his knees and worship her. Everything about her called to him, even the tight copper curls that framed her head. She had long ago become his perfect drug, and he already knew one taste would never be enough.
Shawn slapped something down on the counter, and Ryan turned back. He frowned at the one-dollar bill lying flat against the polished wood bar.
“That crap is fake as hell.” Ryan shook his head.
The entire wall of the bar was wallpapered with dollar bills that patrons had inscribed with wishes. His sister, known for her big, crazy ideas, had come up with the fairy tale. The people of Lake Tahoe and a good chunk of the tourists who visited believed that if a greenback fell, the wish would come true.
For most of his life, Ryan had been accused of being larger than life, like his sister, Ryan had a personality that seemed larger than life, but he didn’t share her belief in magic. Persistence and hard work made dreams come true. Not magic, and not wishes. He hadn’t made it as a major league pitcher because he’d wished on a star or taped a dollar bill to the wall. It had taken years, training, and enough dedication and hard work to crush the average person.
No, Ryan didn’t believe in magic.
Shawn scratched his beard. “I’ll do you a favor. I’ll make the wish for you.”
Ryan stared hard at his former teammate. The man he’d spent a year playing AAA ball and two years in the majors with would never believe in magic. Shawn was as much about hard work as Ryan was.
“Some things are just luck and fate, man. Hard work can’t fix my arm—no matter how dedicated I am to rehab and training. Plus, I’ve seen a few too many wishes come true to not wonder at this point.”
Ryan scoffed. “I don’t need a wish. Just a glass of pinot.”
Shawn poured the wine and then pulled out a Sharpie. In big letters, he wrote:
We all wish that it’s something more than just tonight.
Ryan stared at the black ink for a beat before shrugging. Shawn could do whatever the hell he wanted with the dollar. Wish or no wish, it wouldn’t change anything.
3
The swagger theman possessed was otherworldly. Bridget couldn’t help the smirk that formed on her lips as Ryan headed her way. He wasn’t dressed to impress. Everything about him always screamed,I don’t give a shit, from the messy brown hair to the two-day scruff to the ripped jeans and black T-shirt. But that was part of his appeal. The carefree, just live life vibe he always wore like a second skin.
In social situations, Ryan typically gave her a sweet hello before he moved on and never looked her way again. But not tonight. Now his eyes were locked on her, tracking from her face down her neck to her chest and the curve of her hips. He stared for a beat at her legs before the corner of his mouth lifted. Her stomach flipped at the attention. His gaze felt like a long, slow caress. When he touched her? She could only imagine the fireworks he’d set off.
He placed her wine on the high top before it registered that he hadn’t gotten himself a drink.
“Sorry, Shawn’s chatty tonight.” The words were casual, but his tone was darker than usual. Whatever Shawn had said must have gotten under Ryan’s skin. Or maybe he was having second thoughts. Maybe that was why he hadn’t gotten himself a refill.
“If you want to go…”
“To the conference room, to your office, to your house, to my place. Where you lead, I will follow, baby.” Ryan settled a warm palm at her waist, his fingers pressing into her hips. Of its own accord, her body shifted closer to him. She could feel the heat radiating off him as he gave her another once-over, finally making eye contact after his attention roved over every inch of her body.
“LikeGilmore Girls?”
His focus on her didn’t loose any of the intensity, but he wrinkled his brow and cocked his head.
“I was thinking Little Bo Peep’s sheep, but as long as the idea is the same, sure. Let’s go with those chicks.”