Free The Deal with Love (One on One) by Jamie Wesley Page A

though, I’m okay. I hadn’t thought about the fact that I would have to see him when I decided to do this, but I’ll be fine.”
    She searched his eyes, then nodded and patted him on the chest. “Okay. That’s all I want for you.”
    He kept her hand locked to his chest, loving the feel of her hands on him, even through his shirt. What was she doing to him? She cared about him. She’d made that clear. But she’d also made it clear she didn’t want anything more between them. He’d dealt with enough rejection in his life. Seeking it out wasn’t an option. Except he was afraid he was starting to feel something he didn’t want to name. And that simply could not be.

Chapter Six
    Christian released her hand and stepped back. “Do you want to get lunch or something?”
    It took a second for the question to register. For her to break the spell he’d cast over her. For her to stop thinking about the way he’d been looking at her a moment ago. Like it was only a matter of time before he went from having lunch to having her—a prospect that heated every corner of her body and made her heart race. She smoothed her hands down the sides of her skirt. “Are you trying to ask me out on a date?”
    He trained his dark eyes on her. “No, if I was trying to ask you out on a date, you’d know it. There’d be no question about it.”
    “Uhh… Right.” She glanced at her watch to give herself a moment to recover from the arc of electricity zipping through her system. “Yes, I guess I should eat. I get so consumed with work that I forget a lot of times.”
    His brow wrinkled. “That’s not good.”
    Her stomach chose that moment to make its presence known with a loud grumble. “Tell me about it. Let me get my purse.” On the way to her desk, she froze and looked over her shoulder. “Wait. You’re not going to take the camera, are you?”
    He shook his head. “No, we’d need to get permission to film in whatever restaurant we go to, and that can be a time-consuming headache. I don’t think your stomach wants that.”
    Her stomach grumbled its agreement. “No, it doesn’t. Let’s go.”
    They went to a Tia Maria’s, a Tex-Mex restaurant a few blocks away from the arena.
    “I love this place,” Christian said, opening the door.
    “Me, too,” Elise said.
    A hostess led them to a table next to a window that served as one wall of the restaurant. The other walls were covered with murals and inspirational quotes from artists like Frida Kahlo. The place was packed, which was to be expected considering it was lunchtime in Texas at a Mexican restaurant. The tables were close enough together that she could hear what others were saying at nearby tables. For better and definitely for worse.
    “She’s the new general manager for the Stampede,” a balding man wearing a T-shirt said at a table a few feet away. At least he whispered, a point that got defeated thanks to the bass in his voice, which carried easily through the air.
    “Pretty, but I don’t want my GM to be pretty,” his companion, a skinny guy in a blue polo shirt, said. “I want my GM to get the job because he deserves it, not because her father owns the team.”
    “I know,” bald guy said. “What does she know about the NBA? It’s not like she played in the league. I hope she doesn’t run the team into the ground. We just won a title. Why did the old GM have to quit?”
    Elise clutched her menu, anger and frustration welling up inside of her. A small slice of hurt, too. These were the team’s fans, and they didn’t believe in her. They were ready to dismiss her just because of her gender and who her father was, neither of which she had control over. They didn’t care that she’d been a huge fan of the team for as long as she could remember. They didn’t care about her advanced degrees in business and applied economics. They didn’t care that she’d worked for another NBA team before joining the Stampede, diligently working her way up through