Free Wicked Games (Denver Rebels) by Maureen Smith

mean to interrupt.”
    This drew sheepish chuckles from the couple.
    As she dropped her purse on the sideboard, Nelson grabbed his eyeglasses from the coffee table and put them on. “I didn’t expect you home till later.”
    “Clearly.” Nadia grinned teasingly at his girlfriend. “I’m glad you’re back, Bianca. Nelson’s like a lost puppy whenever you go out of town. It’s pathetic.”
    “Hey, that’s not true!” Nelson protested.
    Bianca giggled, resting her head on his shoulder. She was a pretty girl with deep brown skin, stylishly layered dark hair and a full figure. The jacket of her designer pantsuit was unbuttoned to reveal a lacy peach camisole, her ample breasts spilling over the top. A marketing representative, she was one of those girly-girls who put on makeup and heels just to run out for coffee or pick up her dry cleaning.
    She and Nelson met at happy hour several months ago and had been going strong ever since. When Bianca wasn’t traveling for work, she was hanging out over there. Good thing Nadia liked her.
    Sighing, she toed off her pumps and headed for the kitchen, the wood floor cool beneath her bare feet. As she passed the living room, she noticed that there were two empty wineglasses on the coffee table, and the television was tuned to ESPN with the sound muted.
    Nelson rose from the sofa and followed her. “So what’re you doing home so early?”
    “It’s not early. It’s after nine.”
    “I know.” There was a sly note in his voice. “I thought you’d be out much later.”
    “Nope. Sorry to disappoint you.”
    “I’m not disappointed. Just surprised.” Nelson trailed her into the kitchen, watching as she went to the fridge. “Did Reid come see you?”
    “He did.” Nadia grabbed an open bottle of Moscato, closed the refrigerator door with her hip and retrieved a wineglass from the cabinet.
    Nelson eyed her expectantly. “Well?”
    She poured herself a glass of wine. “Well what?”
    “What happened?”
    “None of your business,” she retorted, leaning back against the counter as he moved to stand beside her. “By the way, thanks for telling him where to find me.”
    “He caught me off guard,” Nelson said defensively. “I pick up the phone, and there’s Reid Holden on the other end asking for my sister’s number. I was shocked. And he wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
    Nadia shot him a skeptical look. “Did the word ‘no’ even leave your mouth?”
    “Of course,” Nelson insisted. “I told him you aren’t into athletes. But he didn’t care. He was persistent as hell.”
    Nadia took a sip from her glass. She knew all too well how persistent Reid could be.
    “I meant to give you a heads-up that he was coming, but I got sidetracked.” Nelson grinned, dark eyes gleaming behind his glasses. “You wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had. For starters, my editor was blown away when he read my column and saw that I got a quote from Reid. He called me on my way to work to ask how the hell I did it.”
    Nadia froze, staring at her brother. “I hope you didn’t tell him.”
    “I didn’t. I knew you wouldn’t want me to.”
    “Hell, no.” She’d die if her name ever got leaked to the public. Becoming sleazy tabloid fodder was the last thing she wanted or needed.
    Nelson’s grin widened. “I won’t lie. I didn’t mind taking credit for the quote. Now Corrigan thinks I’m some sort of jock whisperer—like I’m a natural when it comes to connecting with athletes. He’s even thinking about reassigning me to the hockey beat permanently.”
    “Really?”
    “Yup. Either way, I’m covering the Rebels until Garrett gets back from Texas—”
    “What was his family emergency?” Nadia interrupted.
    Nelson grimaced. “His dad had a stroke.”
    “Oh, no,” Nadia said sympathetically. “How awful.”
    “I know. Corrigan says Garrett’s pretty shaken up. But his dad is expected to make a full recovery.”
    “That’s good.”
    “It is. Definitely.”