Or not. When his cell phone rang at that exact moment, he considered it a gift and reached for it without even looking at the ID, a huge risk on a normal day, but he desperately needed the distraction. “Go,” he said, hitting the speaker button, leaving the phone on the dash so his passenger couldn’t complain about the risk, and also so he couldn’t get his second ticket of the month.

“Not answering your texts?” asked Wade.

Pace had to roll his window back up to hear him. “I’m driving.”

“Good. I’m at Jax, and you owe me a beer. Get your ass over here.”

“Can’t.” He glanced at Holly, who was soaking up the conversation with open curiosity. “Got a situation.”

Holly rolled her eyes.

“You getting laid?” Wade asked.

“Hey,” Pace said quickly. “On speaker, and I’m not alone here.”

“Sorry.” Wade paused. “So are you?”

“No!”

“Man, do not tell me you got a bunch of screaming women surrounding your car again.”

“One time,” Pace said on a sigh as Holly snorted. “That happened one time.”

“And I saved you. I keep telling you that edgy, brooding thing you’ve got going on is never going to cut it with the ladies, but you don’t listen—”

“Okay, what part of not alone in the car don’t you get?”

Wade laughed. “Who’s with you?”

“I am.” Holly leaned forward. “Holly Hutchins.”

“Well, hello, darlin’,” Wade purred silkily. “You as gorgeous as you sound?”

“She’s a reporter,” Pace said. “So watch your mouth.”

“I’ll watch whatever she wants me to watch.” Obviously, Wade was Pace’s virtual opposite. The guy had practically grown up on the streets, seeing more as a kid than anyone should see, and he still always had an easy smile on his face. His motto was work hard but play harder. His California-surfer good looks didn’t hurt either, but it was his laid-back nature that had women flocking to him wherever he went.

Holly would flock to Wade, too; it was just a matter of time . . .

“I’m doing a series of in-depth articles on the Heat,” Holly said to the cell phone. “From a personal angle. What makes you guys so popular, what makes you tick, who you are . . . I’d love to set up a time to meet with you and get your thoughts.”

“Just say when,” Wade told her. “I’ll be there.”

Holly sent a smug smile in Pace’s direction that said, See how easy that was?

“He’s a publicity slut,” Pace said in his own defense. “And an attention slut, too.”

“Hey,” Wade said. “True. But hey.”

“I want to hear more about Pace and the women surrounding his car,” Holly said to the phone. “Sounds like a good story.”