“I just wanted to say congratulations,” she whispered in his ear, her lips brushing his earlobe, and right there, surrounded by tens of thousands of people, the adrenaline that lingered after every game was whipped into something else entirely, and suddenly he felt like a knuckle-dragging Neanderthal who wanted to drag his woman off to his cave and have his merry way with her. Me want you now . . . He let his arms tighten on her, hauling her against him.

Oblivious to the sharp need slicing through him, Holly grinned up at him, the woman he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about through nine innings, the woman with the expressive eyes and soft lips, the woman who’d panted when he’d kissed her neck, making him want to do it again.

“You’re good at that,” she laughed, pulling free. “Putting up with people hugging you.”

Not so good with it, not usually.

“Your shoulder okay?”

He felt himself tense. “Why?”

“Because I want to put out the scoop before anyone else.” She shook her head, sarcasm in her eyes. “Because you look like you’re favoring it.”

“No, I’m good.”

“One of these days you’ll learn to trust me.” She nodded toward Red. “Looks like you have to go. Coach’s gesturing at you.”

Yeah, he was, and looking apoplectic while he was at it, wanting Pace to get back to icing his shoulder, which wasn’t as okay as he’d pretended it was.

With one last sweet smile, Holly moved off, and Pace headed to the usual postgame signing. Typically, this was actually fun, especially after a win, but tonight a large group of drunken assholes showed up in line, causing a commotion. After Samantha was harassed when she tried to step in and shut them up, the police were called, and the players were quickly bused back to the hotel and ushered into a private room at the restaurant for the postgame team dinner.

Well used to the occasional mob riots, Pace and the guys were unfazed and happy to eat. Pace grabbed his plate and looked for a seat. Wade was getting an earful about something from Gage. There was a spot next to Red, but Pace didn’t feel like talking shop.

Besides, the empty seat next to Holly seemed to be calling out his name, and telling himself it was the closest open one available, he took it.

“What?” he said to her surprised expression.

“Nothing. I was just expecting you to do the ignore-me thing, especially after I nearly strangled you on the field with my congrats today.”

He looked into her eyes and was instantly transported back to the clubhouse, where she’d held on to him as though she were drowning and he was the only thing that could save her. “I just took the closest empty kiss—er, seat. I meant seat,” he said a little weakly.