Carly Phillips - Hot Property

“Real estate is a smart investment. Ben’s last idea was a franchise that would put condom machines in restrooms around the country. My brother was calling himself the future Condom King of America.”

Amy pursed her lips to keep from laughing.

Roper grinned. “You can let it out. It’s ridiculous, I know. But at my mother’s insistence, I gave him the franchise money and he promptly passed it on to a guy who ran away with the cash. Last my detective heard, he was sunning himself in Mexico, avoiding extradition for embezzlement. Meanwhile there were a lot of disappointed, broke future Condom Kings he’d bilked out of large amounts of cash.”

“So you’d like to help him but can’t because he’s stubborn and invests in pipe dreams. Meanwhile you feel guilty that you won’t help him anymore because he’s still your family.”

He gave her a quick nod. She’d nailed his dilemma perfectly, he thought, not all that surprised at her insight. But he was uncomfortable with how well she understood him. He stirred the vegetables and poured them into a bowl, covering it with foil to keep warm while he cooked the chicken.

Eventually the silence got to him. “So there you have the story of my life. How about you? Any brothers or sisters to tell tales about?”

She shook her head. “I’m an only child.”

“Lucky you.” A few more preparatory steps and he served the food, dividing up the meal and putting it on their plates.

She sat down at the table to eat. “I wouldn’t say I was lucky. It was pretty lonely growing up by myself.”

He tipped his head to one side. “I never looked at it that way.” He’d had Ben to fight with and toss a ball to. And he’d had Sabrina trailing after him with doting eyes.

“That’s because right now you have issues with your brother.”

“Here’s the thing.” He set two full glasses of water on the table. “I love my family, but everyone needs something from me. They pull at me from every direction and like you said, I feel guilty not responding on the minute.”

“Because you always have before.”

“Exactly.” He placed his hand on the top of his chair. “Now, how about some champagne? It is New Year’s Eve.”

She crinkled her nose in that cute way she had whenever she wasn’t sure she wanted to do something. “Maybe just one glass.”

He obliged, pulling a bottle from the fridge, popping the cork, pouring and finally sitting down beside her at the table. “A toast,” he said, raising his glass.

She raised hers, as well.

“To…new friends,” he said. He hadn’t known how much he needed someone like Amy in his life until tonight. She was special.

A warm smile tilted her lips. “To new friends,” she said, a gleam in her eyes as she touched her glass against his and took a sip.

“Good?”

She nodded. “Excellent. Now, you were saying that everyone in your family needs something from you. Care to elaborate beyond Ben?”

He lifted his fork and tasted his meal. “Mmm. Care to compliment the cook first?”

Laughing, she took a bite and paused.

And paused. And paused so long he nearly fell off the edge of his chair waiting for her opinion.

“This is unbelievably good!” she said at last with a smile on her face that bordered on orgasmic.

All he could imagine was putting that same expression on her face in a more intimate setting. But somehow, he managed to clear his throat and continue their discussion. “Thank you,” he said, ridiculously thrilled that he’d pleased her palate.

He loved to cook and often did so to relieve tension when he had home games or just to help himself relax during the off-season. And he’d needed one helluva a lot of relaxing lately.

“Well? You were saying about your family?” Amy prodded without shame.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re like a pit bull when you get your teeth into something?” he asked. She didn’t reply, merely continued eating and waiting, knowing he’d have to answer eventually. “Oh, all right. I’ll tell you, but I’ll probably put you to sleep with my family saga.”

She shook her head. “Try me.”

He shrugged. “Mom’s an actress, or at least she was until she aged beyond the point where cosmetic surgery enabled her to take youthful roles.”

“Would I know of her?” Amy asked.

“Her stage name is Cassandra Lee.”

Amy’s eyes lit up. “From the movies Maiden Lane and On Sandy Shores! My mother is a huge fan and took me to her movies all the time when I was growing up!”

“That’s her,” Roper said. “These days she’s too vain to accept the more mature roles, so she’s settled into living her life with me supporting her. Not that I mind, since she worked hard to take care of us while I was a kid.”

“It must be hard aging in Hollywood.”

“There are plenty of better-known actresses who’ve handled it. Sharon Stone, Meryl Streep, Annette Bening. Mom has truly made Poor Me into an art form. But I’m used to it by now.”

Amy finished her meal, leaving nothing on her plate. She wasn’t one of those women who pushed the food around instead of eating, and that pleased him.

She raised her glass and sipped her champagne. “What about your father? Is he still alive? Mine isn’t. He passed away a few months after I started junior high,” she said, her tone wistful.

“I’m sorry.” He wanted to squeeze her hand, but she didn’t seem to want or need sympathy.

She finished her champagne and smiled.

He poured them both another glass. “My father is still alive. He just wasn’t ever much of an influence in my life, except for the fact that I inherited my baseball talent from him. Eduardo Montoya. He was a big-time player in his day. And before you ask, Roper was my mother’s name before she had it changed.”

Amy inclined her head. “I’ve never heard of him, but that isn’t saying much.”

He nodded. “It’s kind of nice that you don’t know the professional me.”

She nodded in understanding. He couldn’t get over how much he’d revealed to her tonight. Other than with Micki, he never discussed his famous parents with anyone. He didn’t need another reason for people to be impressed with something about him that had nothing to do with who he was inside. Amy was different. She was easy to talk to and genuinely interested in him, unlike the usual women he dated, ones who were more interested in his career, status and what he could buy them. Before now, all he’d wanted from his companions was a good time, in bed and out. Yet here was a woman he could talk to…

Unwilling to think about that, he rose and started to clean up. Amy helped and in the process, they managed to finish the bottle of champagne. Once the plates were in the dishwasher, and the kitchen was sparkling, he finally led Amy into the family room and turned on the big-screen TV to watch the ball drop in Times Square. He’d have offered to take her home, but he was enjoying her company too much and he didn’t want to ring in the New Year alone.

She snuggled into the corner of the couch and didn’t object when he eased in close beside her. From the way she’d tripped once on her way into the den and giggled a few times over a joke he hadn’t made, Roper knew the champagne had gone to her head.

She was adorable to watch, and he liked having her in his home. Another first.

She narrowed her gaze at the TV screen depicting Times Square. “I can’t believe all those people are standing outside in that freezing-cold weather. It was awful when we were there and it wasn’t by choice!” She shivered at the memory, giving him just the excuse he needed.

“Spoken like a true Florida girl.” Roper pulled her close at the same time the countdown to the New Year began.