Love and Other Games (14 page)

"I know. It's okay." She smiled weakly, and then cupped his face, bringing his lips down squarely over hers. He felt himself getting hard again. Thank fucking God, he silently prayed. "Make sure he's gone," she said.

She didn't have to tell him twice. "Don’t move," he ordered as he got off the bed, removed the condom, and pulled on his boxers. "I mean it, Brenna. We're not done here." He winked, and then went out into the hall to deal with his friend.

Brenna's hands shook as she pulled on her jeans and zipped them.
I'm such a compulsive idiot!
As if jumping into bed with Cole wasn't a colossally bad idea as it was, having his friend walk in and see her naked was horrific. It snapped her out of her stupidity. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip and paused. But, oh man, could Cole kiss. The thought of his lips and tongue exploring her body, kissing and licking her skin—she shuddered. And the taste of his hot, hard, maleness filling her mouth had her body tingling with desire. There was no denying that she wanted him. Badly.

"You're dressed." Cole frowned and closed the door with a little more force than necessary. "I told you not to move."

She swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded. "I know, but—"

"No more buts, Brenna." Before she could react, he was in front of her, pulling her into his arms, and slanting his mouth over hers.

Leaning into him, she became pliant. Her mind raced to keep up with the sensations coursing through her veins. She wanted to stop thinking, to just give in to him and enjoy the pleasure she knew he could give her. Cole's hands snaked down her back and landed on her ass, yanking her tight against him. She groaned, and tried to push him away. It was impossible to think with him kissing her like that.

Cole released her lips, but kept his arms around her. "Don't even try to tell me you don't want this as much as I do."

She shook her head. "No, I'm not. I mean, I do … " She sighed. "I do want this, Cole, but not like this."

"Like what?" He caressed her ass through her jeans, sending shivers up her spine.

"Okay, please stop for a minute and just listen to me." Brenna freed herself from his hold and took a step back. He didn't look very pleased and that bothered her a lot. "I came here to apologize. I really fucked up this morning, Cole, and I want to make it up to you, but having sex with you isn't the way to do that." Yeah, that sounded reasonable, she thought. It would buy her a little time to … to do what she had no idea. Her mind was already made up: she was going to have sex with Cole. The only question now was when.

Cole put his hands on her shoulders and dragged them up and down her arms. He smiled. "You do owe me."

Brenna laughed. "Any chance what we just did makes us even?"

"No chance in hell, darlin'."

There was that damn southern accent again. He didn't use it very often, but when he did it always made her swoon. Good thing he didn't know that or else he'd use it all the time on her. She knew it was a bad idea to ask, but she had no choice. "So, what can I do to make it up to you?" From the way he grinned at her, she knew whatever he had in mind wasn't going to bode well for her.

"There's something I need your help with." He turned his back and gathered his clothes from the floor.

She watched as he dressed, a twinge of regret and sadness clutched at her. It wasn't too late. She could convince him to take his clothes off again, to get into bed with her again. No, she shook her head, now wasn't the time. "What exactly do you need my help with?"

"Have you heard that superstition about the Olympic torch?"

"No." Did she need to remind him just how much she hated the Olympics? She never paid attention to the games or anything surrounding them.

"Apparently there is a rumor going around that there's a fake Olympic torch, a miniature replica, and any athlete in possession of it during competition will medal," he explained, sitting on the bed, putting on his boots, and lacing them up.

Brenna laughed. She couldn't help it. That was the most ridiculous thing she'd ever heard. And the serious look on Cole's face only made her laugh harder. "I'm sorry," she gasped. "A lucky torch? You're kidding right?"

"No." He stood and crossed his arms over his chest. "The rumor is that no one really knows where it came from, but that you have to be in possession of it while competing, and you can't have it for more than a day or it's bad luck."

Oh God, he was serious. Her smile faded. "I didn't realize you were the superstitious type."

"I'm not." Cole smiled mischievously. "But with the way things have been going for me so far, it can't hurt to have a little bit of good luck on my hands."

She simply stared at him. No doubt he blamed some of his bad luck on her—and with just cause. "Let me guess, you want me to help you hunt down this torch."

"No. I know where it is. I need help getting it." Cole grabbed her coat and held it out for her.

Hesitantly, Brenna slipped her arms into her coat and pulled it closed around her, zipping it up to her chin. A ball of dread the size of Texas landed in her gut. She had a feeling that whatever Cole had planned was going to get both of them into trouble. "And how do you know where it is?"

"Jason saw Ty Madsen and some girl going into the Volunteer Director's office in the community center with it. When they came out, they didn't have it."

She gave him a dirty look. "The director's office? We can't just waltz in there and ask for it."

"I know," he laughed, and put on his own coat, "which is why it was brilliant for Ty to hide it there. Come on. We've got to get there before someone else gets it." Cole grabbed her hand and dragged her out of his room.

"Do you realize how crazy this is?" Brenna had to run to keep up with him.

He stopped and turned to look at her. "Will you stop thinking and just have a little fun for once?"

Brenna sighed, her breath coming out in a puff in front of her. Cole appeared excited by the idea of finding this stupid torch and of having fun doing so. The sparkle in his eyes reminded her of a child on Christmas morning who had opened that one toy he really wanted. She couldn't hide the smile that pulled at her lips. Who was she to take that away from him? "And how do you propose we get into his office?"

Cole grinned, a clear sign that he was pleased that she'd agreed to go along with his crazy idea. "Ty figured out a way. We can, too." He took her hand into his and resumed walking.

The warmth of his hand surrounding hers was comforting. Despite her severe reservations, she was kind of excited. She'd never done anything like this before, and it was so ridiculous, but at the same time it was liberating. Brenna hated to admit it, but Cole was bringing out a side of her, a side she didn't think would ever see daylight again.

"I got it!" He stopped abruptly, and then changed directions. "Your camera, you can ask for a picture, ask him if he'd be willing to show you around, and while you've got him distracted, I can slip in and get the torch." 

She was so getting fired for this. Yet, she still couldn't bring herself to tell him no. Frank did tell her to have some fun, she thought as Cole led her to her room. Once there, Brenna unlocked her door and went inside. "I have to change out the memory card," she said, getting an extra memory card from her camera bag and switching it out with the full one. "Are you sure this is going to work?"

"It will if you sell it," he said with a wink, leading her outside and toward the community center.

"Oh, I can sell it. But no funny business from you, got it?" she said, pointing at him.

He put his hands up in a show of surrender and chuckled. "I'll be on my best behavior, I promise."

For some reason, she didn't quite believe him. They walked the rest of the way in silence. Brenna's mind raced with scenarios of everything that could go wrong. What if the director didn't buy her story? What if he did and Cole got caught stealing from his office? What if she was implicated in the whole thing and Frank found out? Would she get fired? Would they get arrested? She was quickly rethinking her decision to help him. So much could go wrong.

Cole pulled open the door to the community center and ushered Brenna inside. The warm air hit her in the face, causing her cold cheeks to burn until they acclimated to the sudden change in temperature. She rubbed her hands together and adjusted the strap of her camera. "Any idea where his office is?" she whispered to Cole.

"Why are you whispering?" he asked with amusement.

Brenna shrugged. "I don't know. It seems appropriate for what we're about to do." She laughed.

He playfully nudged her with his shoulder and smiled. "Come on. I believe the offices are down that hall." He pointed to a long corridor to his right.

It was nearing seven o'clock and most of the offices were dark, the doors closed and locked for the night. The hallway was eerily silent. Brenna felt as if she were starring in a bad horror movie, that some crazed killer was going to jump out at any time and hack her to pieces. She clutched Cole's arm and let him lead the way. What was she thinking when she agreed to this?

Cole stopped. "Here," he said, nodding at an open door. A silver name plate read, John Sorensen, Volunteer Director. "Just tell him you’re a photographer and ask for a picture," Cole whispered, pushing her toward the door.

Brenna swore her heart stopped. Her palms were sweaty and she was suddenly very warm. She didn't do things like this; she wasn't cut out for it. Slowly, she peeked inside the office. "It's empty," she said with relief. "He's not here."

"Even better." Cole sauntered into the room like he owned it.

"Cole!" Her voice was a harsh whisper. "What are you doing?"

He turned and looked at her as if he had no clue what she said. "Looking for the torch. Keep an eye out, and let me know if anyone is coming."

Unbelievable! She stood so that she was out of view from anyone coming down the hallway, but so that she could still see both ends clearly. Frantically, she looked to her right then her left and back to her right. Behind her, something crashed to the floor, causing her to jump. She spun around. "Damn it, Cole. Are you trying to get caught?"

"I can't find it," he said, lifting the couch cushions, and then getting on his knees to look under the couch. When he didn't find it, he moved on to the wall of bookshelves, looking behind things, under things, in things. Then he moved on to the closet, rummaging through the pockets of the clothes hanging inside of it. She couldn't help but laugh at him. He looked frustrated and panicked. "A little help here, please?"

"Who will watch the door?"

Cole motioned for her to get in the office. "The quicker we find this thing, the quicker we can get out of here. Now help me."

Brenna shook her head. Checking the hallway one final time, she joined Cole in the office and helped him search. She had to admire the office. It was spacious, with an oversized desk, a plush leather couch, floor to ceiling bookshelves cluttered with framed photographs, books, trinkets, trophies, and Olympic memorabilia. The torch could be anywhere. "Do you have any idea how big this thing is?"

"No, but I'm guessing it's not too big if it's hidden in this office. Check the desk."

She walked around the desk and sat in his chair, pulling out each drawer and rummaging through it. The guy was a packrat. There were dozens of unopened boxes of staples, pens, paper clips, rubber bands, highlighters, lanyards, blank name badges, food wrappers, straws … jeez, this guy was weird. Who kept so much stuff in their desk? Surely there had to be a supply room around here somewhere.

"Find anything yet?"

"No." She closed the last drawer and propped her elbows on the top of the desk. "This is useless, Cole. We have no idea what … " Sitting there, on the corner of the desk, was a cute little stuffed animal mascot holding an oversized Olympic torch. Smiling, she reached for it. "Bingo!"

Cole walked over, took her face into his hands, and kissed her. "You're brilliant," he said.

"Are you sure this is it?" Brenna turned it around in her hand. "It looks weird." It was silver and smaller than the torches carried during the opening ceremonies. It was an odd shape, too, looking more like a cup on a saucer with a stick underneath.

"It has to be. There's no other torch anywhere in this office." Cole took it from her hand and inspected it. He squinted at something on the side. "1938," he read. "I think this is it."

"Good. Now let's get—" The sound of a voice in the hallway silenced her. Her eyes widened and her heart raced. She looked at Cole. He put his finger to his lips, took her hand, and led her quietly toward the door. The voice in the hallway got louder, getting closer by the moment. Brenna squeezed Cole's hand, panic flooding her veins. They were going to get caught, she knew it.

"The closet," he whispered, dragging her across the office and into the closet. Moments after the door closed, a man walked inside, no doubt the director.

Brenna buried her face in Cole's chest. His heart was beating just as hard as hers. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. She swallowed hard. The closet was cramped, and both of them still wearing their winter coats made it worse. It was stifling, and sweat creased her brow. Not to mention the torch in Cole's hand was poking her in the ribs. In the office, the chair creaked as the director sat down. Then she heard him talking. She'd been pretty sure only one person had entered the office. He must be on the phone, she thought. Speaking of phones, Brenna dug hers out of her coat pocket and checked the time—7:39 p.m.

They stood like that, not speaking, not moving for what felt like hours, but another quick check of her cell phone indicated it had only been forty five minutes. "This is all your fault," she hissed.

"Shh … he'll hear you." He leaned closer to the door as if trying to hear what was going on. "I'm sure he'll leave soon."

The director was still on the phone. Good grief, who was he talking to? Brenna fidgeted. She was annoyed and angry and tired of being locked in this damn closet. "I'm sweating," she whispered.