We didn’t get a chance to meet earlier.”
“Emma, this is Sam Compton,” Riley said, keeping her voice casual. “He’s a
family friend.”
“Nice to meet you,” Sam said, giving Emma an easy smile. “You’ve got a hell of
an arm, by the way. It was good to have some talent on the pitcher’s mound.”
“Had to make up for the Marilyn Monroe routine happening in left field,” Emma
said with a nod toward Riley. “And speaking of Ri, your charms were bountiful
enough that half the Oxford guys are overlooking the fact that you delivered their
defeat and are insisting that they buy you a drink. You ready?”
Riley resisted the urge to roll her eyes. The drinks were free, and more than half
the Oxford guys were here with significant others. She almost corrected Emma
when she saw the sulky expression on Sam’s face.
Maybe the plan was working after all.
“Sure!” she said, readjusting her droopy ponytail as she turned toward Sam. “You
wanna come?”
The question was nonchalant, as though he was an afterthought and she didn’t
care whether or not he joined. In fact, her tone took on just enough flippancy to
suggest that she’d prefer he didn’t come.
She even let her eyes find Emma, and the two of them very intentionally
exchanged the look of female friends who were worried that a big-brother figure
would derail their romantic plans.
The exchange wasn’t lost on Sam. It wasn’t meant to be.
“Yeah, I could go for a beer or two,” Sam said, adjusting his hat. “Someone’s
gotta make sure you two stay out of trouble.”
Riley turned away so he wouldn’t see her smile of victory.
Keep them out of trouble her ass.
If this plan worked, Sam was the one who would need saving.
Chapter Thirteen
Riley was up to something.
Sam just wasn’t exactly sure what.
But for the first time in months—years?—Sam didn’t care that he didn’t know what
the hell was going through her gorgeous head.
As long as she kept smiling at him like that—like she enjoyed him—he was
content to play along in complete ignorance.
Not to mention, the “just one of the guys” thing she had going on meant he wasn’t
constantly looking over his shoulder for Liam to come charging at him for ogling
his little sister.
Too bad Riley’s buddy-buddy routine wasn’t quite as effective at silencing his
mother’s latest accusation. You think a pseudo celebrity like Riley McKenna
wants you for anything more than her next story? Even if she didn’t, you’d
probably screw that up too.
He’d never admit it, but he was grateful for his mom’s timing. Without knowing it,
she’d kept him from making a mistake that both he and Riley would have
regretted.
He glanced over at the woman who’d spent the past two hours introducing him to
her colleagues as “practically a brother.”
There was absolutely no chance he was seeing her lingerie tonight.
Perfect. That was exactly what he wanted.
Bull. Fucking. Shit.
Okay, so he definitely wanted to see what she was wearing under her hot-pink
baseball shirt.
But so did every other single guy in the bar.
Sam should have been prepared for this. It was Riley. But when she’d pitched
this softball “favor,” he’d been so busy trying to figure out her angle that he’d
missed a rather key detail of the whole thing.
Namely, the very male opposing team.
He’d only read Oxford a handful of times, and Sam was less than pleased to see
that at least half the staff looked like they could be on the cover of the magazine
as well as its bylines.
And at least half of the model-wannabes seemed to be very single, and very
aware of Riley’s penchant for formfitting clothes.
Some nice-enough guy named Jason casually threw an arm around the back of
Riley’s chair as she chatted with Julie. Jason caught Sam’s glare and hesitated
only briefly before retracting the arm.
If there was an upside to being introduced as “practically a brother,” it was that
his glares were interpreted as fraternal protectiveness.
Which was exactly what they were supposed to be.
Then Riley tilted her head back and laughed at something Julie said, a
spontaneous, unscripted gesture that had his stomach tightening with want. And
not just want to brush his lips down the exposed column of her neck. It was a
deeper want—to spend time with her, just to see her smile.
Yup, his feelings toward Riley were anything but brotherly, and he was getting
damn tired of trying to convince himself of anything else.
The trouble was, she seemed to be doing a damn good job of convincing herself