not that uncommon." She sat up and folded her arms over that marvelous chest of hers. "I don't think there's anything wrong with not knowing."
Maybe not wrong, but I tried to wipe the look off my face of total and complete lack of comprehension. How did one not know? She’d devoted years of her life at uni studying this subject.
I chose my words carefully—pregnant woman and all. "It certainly seems like you have a lot of options."
"I do." Her chin was pointed at a mulish angle, and it was surprisingly sexy, as was the defiance in her tone.
"And once you decide which one, you'll be incredible. Prove you were right in wanting what you want."
Lia's brows lowered over those eyes of hers, confusion clear. "Prove to who?"
I shrugged. "Everyone."
She hummed.
"What?"
"Nothing," she answered lightly.
"Bollocks. That's not a nothing tone. Don't try to read anything into it." My entire career was based around proving a point. Every day that I showed up to work my arse off, it was to prove a point. Every time I scored. Every time I left a piece of myself on the pitch, it was the prove a point. "Come to my match on Saturday?" I asked her.
She smiled. "Of course. Is your family coming to this one? I'd love to meet them."
To match her smile with one of my own was difficult, but I tried. "I'll ring and ask. It's hard for them to leave the farm."
Lia sat up and swung her leg over my lap until she’d settled nicely on top of me. My hands slid up her back while her fingers played with the ends of my hair. "It's a big game, though, right?"
"Very." Adding three points now, with how the rest of the table was shaking out, would be a bloody relief.
"Chelsea's good, though, right?" She peeked at me under her lashes.
I smiled. "Someone's been doing her homework."
"A little. But with their best striker injured, don't you have a better chance of beating them?"
With a groan, I tugged her closer. "Keep talking, I could get off listening to you like this."
Lia laughed. "I just mean, wouldn't your parents want to be at a big game?"
And that killed it.
I kept my face even. "Depends on what needs to be done this time of year at the farm. November usually means rotating the crops for grazing, deworming, that sort of thing."
She hummed. "And you had to do that growing up?"
"Unfortunately."
"I like the idea of farmer Jude."
I didn't. I hated it, which was why I left. But still, I found myself smiling at the look on her face. "Do you now?"
She nodded, ducking her head down to kiss either side of my lips. What did my heartbeat sound like when she did that? Was it racing and whooshing and filling the room with the indistinct drumming?
I turned my head to suck at her lips, but she pulled back.
"Are we playing now, love?"
"Maybe," she murmured. "I keep thinking about you tossing me onto a bale of hay and having your way with me."
"Oh please, we can do better than that." My hand came up and gripped her chin so she couldn't evade me. With the edge of my thumb, I pressed down on the center of her luscious mouth, hissing in a breath when she sucked it between her lips. "That kind of mood, eh?"
She grinned—wickedly, in fact— and my thumb fell away. Underneath her, my body was aching and tight, heavy with wanting her.
"I think it's my turn in the driver’s seat." She whipped her shirt over her head, hands diving down to the button on my trousers when it fell onto the floor.
I surged up and took her mouth in a deep kiss, my hands gripping the curve of her hips while she writhed on top of me, chasing the sharp edge of relief that way.
"Thatta girl," I said against her lips when her movements sped up, her face flushed a pretty pink. "Show me what feels good to you."
Slipping my hand between us, I hardly had to do much, and Lia cried out, her chest heaving, her body shuddering in a way that made me crave her dangerously. Never before had I ever wanted a single woman long enough that I was willing to follow the path of how we could make each other feel for a long period. The possible complications had never been worth it.
But as I cupped the back of her head and tilted her at the perfect angle for a