From Enemies to Expecting(19)

So, this was not helping. Maybe if she could generate a better showing for her brand-new fake relationship, some of the pressure would be off and her muse would get with the program.

Palming her phone, she sent Logan a text message asking if he was free tonight before the little voices could start laughing at her feeble attempts to make excuses for wanting to see him. Yeah, she’d had fun last night after figuring out that the key to everything was getting him hot and bothered. It wasn’t a crime to admit she’d rather press those buttons than sit here failing at being brilliant for the rest of her Saturday.

The return message came back instantly.

It’s the ninth inning, so I can jet in a couple of hours. What did you have in mind?

Crap. Should have thought that through a little better. What she had in mind and what was feasible to actually do in a crowd were two different things, despite what she’d told Logan last night about her public exploits. But it was only fair that she come up with an event since he’d done the work last night.

Something that didn’t require hours to get ready would be great. And necessary, since it was already four o’clock. Something public, where she could goad him into a fight, preferably, because that seemed to have worked the first time to get so many shares.

Nada.

It wasn’t like she never did social stuff. But for so long, she’d done them with her friends, met interesting men wherever they ended up, and then gone home with one if she was in the mood. Or not, as the case had been lately. And her friends had all gotten married, leaving her at loose ends and restless.

Married friends might be a saving grace right this minute.

There was nothing to do but ping Cass and ask if she and Gage were by some miracle in Dallas today instead of Austin and if they had plans. Maybe the CEO of Fyra might be up for a double date, and there would be the added benefit of having two more social powerhouses with her, since both Cass and Gage regularly made the society columns in both of the cities they frequented.

Cass texted her back almost immediately.

We have invitations to a party in Deep Ellum to benefit Children’s Advocacy Center, but we’re skipping due to all the smoke and loud music. Baby on board, as Gage likes to remind me. You want to go in our place?

Trinity did a victory dance. Looked like she’d be taking Logan to a club after all, and the timing was perfect. She texted him to pick her up at eight, then shut her laptop lid so she didn’t have to stare at the blank screen any longer.

Humming, she took a shower, then did her makeup. Harper had just come up with a really great new eye shadow that she’d asked everyone to test. The deep emerald color matched Trinity’s mood and had a touch of sparkle, perfect for a dark venue. She poured herself into a faux leather catsuit in black with a silver chain ring belt and donned six-inch platform heels that complemented the outfit but didn’t totally scream dominatrix.

Logan’s expression when she opened the door later said that he didn’t quite get the distinction.

“No.” He shook his head and shut his eyes for a beat. “I’m not going anywhere with you dressed like a cross between Catwoman and Lady Gaga.”

That was such a ludicrous statement, she actually glanced down. “Are you kidding? Lady Gaga would laugh at how tame these shoes are. Also, we’re not having this argument every time, are we?”

“Apparently.” He crossed his arms over his Dallas Mustangs T-shirt, bunching up his biceps in the way that drove her mad. Because she still hadn’t gotten her hands on them, not properly. “Until you get the memo that I’m a conservative, God-fearing baseball team owner who sells hot dogs, foam fingers and memories, not bondage equipment.”

“Honey, you’re about as conservative as a Ferrari.” And twice as sexy. He was a little windblown, as if he’d driven from the stadium in Arlington with the windows open. “No one who kisses a woman like you do could ever be described as tame.”

Windblown Logan was delicious. Almost as much as tuxedo-clad Logan. Maybe more. The tux had lent him an almost inaccessible air, too beautiful to mar, but today he had a ready-to-rumble look that said he’d throw down if she pushed. And she was in the mood to push.

“Tame and conservative are not the same thing,” he said with a once-over that had enough bite that her lady parts perked up. “Kissing you directly benefits my goals. You wearing that outfit does not.”

She crossed her arms to mimic him and let a slow smile spill over her face. “I’m not changing. We’re going to a club in Deep Ellum. I guarantee you I will blend in. You won’t.”

“Good. Then we’ll attract more attention if we don’t blend.” Without asking, he barged into her condo like a bull with the red cape in his sights, then whirled in the marble entryway. “Which direction is your bedroom?”