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Kason cleared his throat. “I've
scheduled a fence company to come in tomorrow,” he said. “I'll install a screen
doggie door on your camper. That way Ruckus won't have an accident inside.”

The man had thought of
everything. He'd put major effort into her gifts. He'd cornered her into
staying. A decision she would have made on her own, although a little
persuasion never hurt. She'd never felt so spoiled.

“I'm speechless.” It was
all she could manage as Ruckus wound down. The pup yawned, curled against her
chest, and was asleep in a heartbeat.

Cimarron took that moment
to join them. He sat before Dayne, eye to eye, his expression reminding her
that he came first, no matter the new addition in her life.

“Thanks, Cim.” Her voice
was soft and appreciative. She stroked the big dog's neck and scratched both
ears. She swore the Dobie sighed.

Kason came to her next.
From her position on the floor, she saw his boots, then his long legs as she
looked up his body. Wide chest, thick neck, granite jaw, and full mouth. His
eyes held a heat that did crazy things to her heart.

“I have one more gift.” He
offered his hand and pulled her to her feet. She clutched Ruckus to her chest.
The pup was sound asleep, oblivious to the world around him.

“Last time we had dinner,
you mentioned public relations as your dream job.” He paused, she nodded, and
he continued. “The Rogues have an opening in player promotions that might
interest you. An assistant's position.”

“You thought of me?” She'd
never been more surprised.

“The job's yours if you
want it.”

She went utterly still. She
couldn't speak, couldn't breathe. Could barely think straight. Kason had
presented her with a golden opportunity. She wondered who's arm he'd had to
twist or break, for that matter.

He snapped his fingers. “You
with me, Dayne?”

She nodded. “I'm taking it
all in.”

“Revelle Sullivan heads
Game's On. She's willing to train,” he told her. “You can start tomorrow. I'll
give you a lift to the stadium until you can find your own transportation. It's
too damn far to bike.”

“Tomorrow.” So soon. Her
mind ran to clothes, shoes, a shower. Then on to who would watch Ruckus while
she was away.

Kason read her mind. “I've
a pet sitter scheduled. Eve McCaffrey, my teammate's wife, will stay with
Ruckus and Cim for a few days until the min-pin settles in. Eventually Cimarron
will take over as babysitter. He's well trained.”

Dayne was instantly
relieved.

Kason shifted his stance. “Are
we square now?” He needed to know.

“We're fine.” Her life was
near perfect.

“Good, 'cause I'm out of
gifts.”

He'd given her more than
she'd ever expected. More than she deserved. Most men showed regret with a
card, flowers, or chocolates. Kason's apology came with a plasma, puppy, and
employment. He'd fixed everything broken in her life.

“I can pay you rent now,”
she told him.

“The tin can doesn't take
up much space.”

“Then I'll pay by the foot.”

She set the sleeping
min-pin on the sofa, and Cimarron stood guard over the pup. Turning back to
Kason, she touched his arm. “I won't assume anything about you ever again. As
far as the gifts, 'thank you' doesn't seem enough.”

She made a move toward him
then. There was something incredibly sexy about a hard man showing his soft
side. His apology had left her unexpectedly turned on. He'd gifted her with
openness, vulnerability, and kindness. Beneath his tough exterior beat a good
heart.

She stepped into his body,
until their hips met. Her hands curved around his biceps. His scent hinted of
rain, woods, and virility. His brown eyes turned black. His jaw was firmly set.

She showed her appreciation
with an airbrush kiss to his lips, so light, it might never have happened. A
second kiss went deeper, lasted longer, grew suggestive.

Kason held still, in
complete control, only taking what she chose to give.

She gave even more. Her intimacy
parted his lips, and she tasted him. She caught the moist heat of his mouth on
the tip of her tongue, penetrated deeper, withdrew slowly.

Kason let her initiate,
then lead. He shifted, but didn't touch her. His arms pressed his sides, as
straight and stiff as his body.

Her hands left his arms,
soon to flatten against his chest. His body heat was explosive against her
palms. The cut and contour of his muscles defined the physical man. He used his
body for sport, and maintained the strength and power of an elite athlete.

Men would emulate him.

Women would scheme for his
attention.

She clutched the navy
cotton of his T-shirt, the urge to strip off his clothes strong. She wanted to
snuggle against his chest, kiss the warm crease of his neck, work her way down
his body.

Her breathing grew erratic.

His body flexed, his
erection in play.

She knew where this was
headed when Kason spoke his thoughts out loud. He raised a brow, his expression
intense. “Make-up sex?”

He'd asked her before, and
he was asking her again. His apology had given them both mental release after
their argument. Connecting physically with this man would give her an amazing
orgasm. She was close to accepting his last gift. So very close.

Memories of Mick Jakes
crowded her mind, and sanity pulled her back. She shook her head. Good sex
required the right timing, and their time wasn't now. “We're neighbors, Kason.
I don't do friends with benefits.”

“Sex could benefit us both,”
he insisted. “You want me, Dayne.”

She damn-sure did. “We're
too different,” she managed to say. “I like low-key. I just don't want to get
involved with someone in the public eye.”

That stopped him cold. “Why
the hell not? I have a private life.”

“Past experience, Kason,”
she said. “Been there, done that, and won't repeat. End of discussion.”

He didn't understand. His
expletive told her so.

He did, however, back off,
which she appreciated.

Kason Rhodes stared at
Dayne. The tomboy had slipped him her tongue, spread her hands over his chest,
felt him.
Yet that's where it ended, with a wild pulse at her throat and him
sporting a hard-on.

Taking her to his bed
appealed to him. A whole hell of a lot. But he wanted more than a quick screw.
That in itself surprised him. Dayne had inserted herself in his life, and he'd
moved over and made room for her.

He wasn't about to make a
move on her until she jumped his bones. For now, he'd wait for a clear sign
that she wanted him. Until then, he'd find physical distraction in longer jogs
and lifting weights. He'd go to bed so tired, even his dick would want to sleep.

Ruckus took that moment to
open his eyes. The minpin yipped for attention, and Dayne immediately scooped
him up. She cuddled the pup, and would spoil him rotten. Kason hoped she
wouldn't dress up the small dog. No reason to turn Ruckus into an argyle
sweater-vest sissy.

“It's time to tuck in,” she
finally said.

Cimarron hit the door,
ready to go with her.

“Can Cim sleep over?” she
asked.

“Why the hell not?” He felt
generous.

“Any chance I can use your
shower in the morning?” She looked hopeful. “I'd like to wash my hair in warm
water. Maybe even get dressed in your guest room. It's more spacious than my
camper.”

“Set your alarm early, and
don't use all the hot water. Be out by seven thirty. We leave for the stadium
at eight.”

By 7:35 the next morning,
Kason figured Dayne had wrapped up her shower. He'd heard her arrive, had
listened as she fed Cimarron and Ruckus. She'd then slipped down the hall and
into his shower.

He'd lain in bed, his dick
saluting the ceiling, as the running water drew pictures of her naked and
soapy. He'd enjoyed the fantasy images, then gone on to wish the experience was
up close and personal.

He stretched, scratched his
belly, then swung his legs over the side of the bed. He'd given her five extra
minutes—she knew better than to linger. She should be back in the guest room by
now, dressing for work.

He snagged a dark blue
towel from the clothes hamper. He'd used it for two showers, but it could go
three. It was time to drop his clothes off at the Laundromat, before the hamper
overflowed. Wet and Whirl did a quick job, charging by the pound. He'd then be
set to go for another week.

Outside his bedroom, the
hallway seemed like a sauna. Dayne had splurged on hot water. The aroma of
peaches scented the shower steam that had snuck beneath the door. His own skin
was damp by the time he twisted the doorknob, only to have it jerked away when
the tomboy swung out.

Her head was bent as she
shook out her hair. A creamcolored towel hung untucked and loose and exposed
much of her body.

Kason took in her high,
rounded breasts.

The symmetrical lines of
her ribs.

Nipped-in narrow waist.

The sharp curve of her
hipbones. The damp triangle of curls. And shapely legs.

Her body was tight, hot,
and perfect for him.

His testicles tightened,
and his dick stood up to get a closer look at her. Embarrassment burned his
neck.

He watched as Dayne swept
back her hair, then became shockingly aware both she and he wore nothing but
skin. Her watercolor blue eyes went wide. She inhaled so sharply, she started
to cough. Kason thumped her back twice.

Her face flushed as she
caught her breath. She quickly overlapped the towel edges and knotted the ends,
which helped some, but not a lot. He'd seen her nude, and she remained very
visible to him.

She took her sweet time,
taking in the morning man before he'd showered and shaved. She seemed to like
what she saw.

“They grow them big in...”

She had no idea where he'd
grown up. “Missouri,” he told her. The Show-Me State. His dick twitched, proud
of its size. He pressed the towel over his erection.

“I'd better get ready for
work.” Her nerves took hold. “I used most of the hot water.”

“I figured as much.”

“Thank you.” Dayne and her
towel disappeared into his guest room.

He soon discovered she'd
used
all
the hot water. The shower ran icy cold, and
actually caused shrinkage.

He dried, dressed, and
found Dayne in his kitchen. She was flitting around like a live wire, fully
charged.

She stood at the counter. “Toast?”
Her voice was as jerky as her movements.

How many slices did she
think he could consume? A paper plate hosted an entire loaf of rye, slightly
burned and heavily buttered. She'd moved on to the loaf of wheat.

Cimarron and Ruckus sat off
to the side, staring up at the counter and the increasing pile of toast.

“Juice?” She poured out
four glasses for two people.

Tomboy needed to settle
down. Kason stepped before her, brought her flush against him. He wrapped his
arms around her, held her for a full minute, until he'd crushed her nerves and
she was breathing normally again.

“Breathe, Dayne.” He eased
back, squeezed her shoulder. “No interview; no worries. You've got the job.”

Still, she fidgeted. “What
if Revelle doesn't like me?”

“You'll get along fine,” he
assured her. The Platinum account guaranteed Revelle would work around any of
the tomboy's shortcomings.

She looked down at her
outfit and asked, “Am I dressed appropriately?”

A trick question? He
reached for a slice of toast, was slow to reply. It was an office job. Her
blouse was buttoned; the side-zipper on her skirt was up. Her shoes matched.
She'd fluffed her hair soft and curly and inked her lashes with mascara. Her
lips, glossed a pale pink, curved full and kissable. He liked her mouth best.