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“Did you say something?” Mia asked and stopped, looking over her shoulders.
Did I say that out loud? “No, but what’s with the paint?”
Mia smirked. “We were painting one of the smaller rooms. It got...messy.”
“I guess you weren’t wearing those tennis shoes.”
“Nope, socks.” Mia started back toward her office.
“Wait. Why were you painting a room? I can’t believe my aunt wouldn’t hire someone to handle that for you.”
Mia laughed and the sound sent a strange feeling throughout his body. “It was more of a fun activity for the kids than a real painting job, but you’re right, your aunt wouldn’t have allowed such a thing to happen.”
“Now, that I can believe.” Keylan scanned the halls as they proceeded. “Some things never change.”
“Pardon me?”
“Thanksgiving was last week and this place is already decked out like Santa’s workshop, with Christmas still several weeks away. The Christmas tree at the front entrance is beautiful, by the way. I love all the kids’ ornaments on it.”
“Yes, the decorators were here first thing Friday morning.” Mia visibly forced a smile. “I’m just glad they used the stuff the kids made. They would have been very disappointed.”
* * *
Mia could feel Keylan’s eyes on her as they made their way down the quite long hall. She couldn’t understand how such an arrogant man, king of the playboys and known as an aggressive player on the basketball court, could have her body responding in a way it hadn’t in years. So what if he was tall, with a sun-kissed tan, and handsome beyond reason? Why had her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him, and why had the sudden ache and weight of her breasts made Mia think she was wearing the wrong size bra?
It had been years since twenty-six-year-old Mia had been even remotely attracted to anyone. It wasn’t as if she didn’t like men; it was just that dating and sex wasn’t a priority of the mother to a four-year-old boy with Down syndrome. Mia hated the idea that it was Keylan that had awakened her dormant and sexually deprived body. To make things worse, she’d basically insulted her boss’s nephew to his face. Nice going, Mia.
Mia led Keylan into a midsize office several doors down from the gym. An oak desk with a salt finish sat on the right side of the room across from a large bay window that looked out over the playground. A dry-erase calendar on the wall behind Mia’s desk outlined the year-long activities that were in several different stages of planning.
“Please have a seat, Mr. Kingsley,” she said, taking a seat behind her desk.
The left wall of custom shelves was filled with a few personal photos and years of memorabilia from the many events and activities she’d conducted, along with awards she’d received during her tenure. “It’s Keylan, or KJ, if you prefer,” he said, admiring all the objects on her shelves. “How long have you worked for my family?”
“Almost five years,” she replied to his back, trying to ignore the way his perfectly cut suit draped his Greek-god-like physical form.
“I can’t believe we haven’t met before, especially since you’re the one who organized the annual three-on-three basketball tournaments, the charity bowling and the Holiday Toys for Tots drive. Those are our three biggest charity events.”
“I started right after you were drafted into the NBA. How do you know that I was the one who organized those events?” she asked, her forehead creased.
Keylan turned toward her, pointing at the awards she’d received from both the mayor of Houston and several city council members. “It says so right here.”
“Oh...yeah, well, I’m usually working the events, which means I’m too busy to enjoy them.” Mia shook her mouse to wake up her computer so she could check her emails. “If you can direct your attention to the whiteboard, we can see what we can do to get you the hours you need.”
Keylan folded his six-foot-five-inch frame and took a seat in one of the oval, white leather chairs in front of her desk. “Why weren’t you at last year’s toy drive event?”
“How do you know I wasn’t?”
“Because I was there and I would have remembered you.” He smiled, showing off a perfect set of white teeth. “Plus, my mother and aunt personally thanked everyone there for all their hard work. So...why weren’t you there?”
“I only have to organize the toy drive. I’m not required to work it. Plus, I had other plans. Besides, I’m not a big fan of all the pomp and circumstance the holiday brings.”
Keylan sat forward. “What? You don’t like all the decorations, the lights, the parties, all those presents? Or is it a religious thing for you?”
“I take it you do.”
“Of course.”
“No, it’s not a religious thing,” she replied, shaking her head. “I think celebrating Christmas is fine—it’s just not my favorite time of year,” she explained.
“There’s got to be a story there,” he concluded.
“There isn’t, and my assistant, Sandra, prefers to work that particular event.”
“You call me, boss lady?” Sandra asked as she entered the room wearing blue jeans and a white T-shirt with the words Kingsley Foundation printed in large red letters across it. She came to a quick stop after catching sight of Keylan.
“No. But since you’re here...Sandra White, this is—”
“KJ. I know who he is,” she replied, flipping her sandy-blond hair off her shoulder. Sandra looked at Mia as though she had insulted her intelligence.
“Pleased to meet you,” Keylan said, standing and offering his hand.
“Nice to meet you, too.” Sandra accepted his hand, giving it a slow shake while smiling and batting her green eyes.
Mia’s phone rang as she stood, watching Sandra’s embarrassing display of amorous behavior.
“No worries, I’ll get the phone.” Mia rolled her eyes as she picked up the receiver. “Mia Ramirez.”
Sandra slowly withdrew her hand and smiled. “Can I get you anything, KJ? Coffee, tea, soda, my number?”
Keylan smiled. “Thanks, I’m fine.”
“Yes, you are,” Sandra offered, her smile widening.
“Sandra, Dr. Bissell’s assistant is on line one. Can you please take down the names of his guests for this weekend’s charity bowling tournament?”
“Sure. Nice meeting you, KJ,” she said, backing out of the office.
“Where were we?” Mia asked, not really expecting an answer.
“You were about to tell me why you don’t like Christmas.”
Mia frowned. “I never said I didn’t like Christmas, and we were about to review the schedule to see how we can accommodate your needs.”
A slow, sexy smile crawled across Keylan’s face and Mia quickly regretted the last words in her statement.
“I have a few ideas.”
“I bet you do,” she murmured.
Keylan pointed to the whiteboard. “I was referring to those two events.”
Mia prayed her face wasn’t as red as her nail polish. “Yes, of course. How many hours do you need?”
“Eighty.”
Mia reached for the tablet that sat on the edge of her desk but Keylan beat her to it. When his hand touched hers, their eyes collided and a shock of desire hit Mia like a runaway train. She slowly withdrew her hand and accepted the tablet. “Th-thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Mia cleared her throat. “So, you want to work the toy drive and the charity bowling tournament. If you work the whole time, for both of these events, you will earn sixteen hours.” She ran her fingers across the keys, making note of his request. “That leaves sixty-four hours that you’ll still need to earn.”
“I realize that, which is why I’d like to earn the rest of those hours working here.”
“Here.” Mia waved her hand in the air.
“Yes, here. It is my family’s foundation, remember. I’m thinking—” Keylan rubbed his hands together “—twenty hours a week.”
“Twenty...a week...here? Doing what exactly?” Other than making me crazy.
Keylan turned in his chair and looked at the whiteboard. “I was thinking I’d help out with the kids’ round-up.” He turned back to Mia and smiled.
“The kids’ round-up? Do you have any idea what that is...what’s required?”
Keylan sighed. “Believe it or not, I used to spend a lot of time here. Unless things have changed, this is helping with just about every activity you can think of with the kids. Helping with homework, story time for the little ones, sports—you name it.”
“No, nothing’s changed, that’s it. And how do you plan to make such a commitment with your busy professional and personal schedule?” No, you didn’t just say that out loud, Mia.
Keylan’s left eyebrow quirked and he smirked. “Why don’t you let me worry about my schedule?”
“Fine. When would you like to get started?”
“Well, according to the schedule, you have a group of kids about to have a basketball game in twenty minutes.”
“Those are the kids in our after-school Latch Key program. Coach Wanda and her kids would love having a NBA star in their midst.”
“Great.” Keylan raised his right hand and used his thumb to point behind him. “I’ll just go get changed.”
Mia checked her watch. “Will you be able to get back in time? It’s important to stay on schedule with these kids.”
Keylan frowned. “Where am I going?”
“You’ll want to go change.”
“The last time I checked, the locker rooms were on the other side of the gym,” he said, smiling. “I keep a change of clothes in my car.”
Mia smirked. “I bet you do.”
Keylan scratched his chin with his left thumb. “You’re determined to think the worst of me, aren’t you?” He shook his head. “Between my rehab and ever-changing practice schedule, I have to stay prepared.”
“Oh...” Nice going, Mia.
Keylan stood. “Should I go change?”
“Please.” Mia rose from her chair. “I know Coach Wanda will appreciate the help and I’m sure you’ll do a great job.”
“I’m not sure you really believe that but I guess we’ll see,” he said, heading out of the office.
Yes, we will.
Chapter 2 (#uf3978852-afe2-546c-b4e5-dc8ad14ec10a)
Keylan quickly changed into a pair of black-and-blue knee-length shorts, a blue T-shirt and his own branded black-and-blue sneakers. He passed a much smaller gym that had been retrofitted to accommodate young children with disabilities. The walls were padded from the floor halfway up the wall and half the floors were padded, as well. The basketball hoop had been lowered to five feet and the court was halved. Keylan remembered how proud he’d felt when his aunt decided to use all the recommendations he’d made for the specialized gym. He’d always known how important it was for all kids to have a safe place to play. The pictures he’d seen didn’t do the final project justice.
The sound of children’s laughter and a whistle being blown captured his attention. Keylan stood at the wood Dutch door, its top half open, and watched ten young children playing. Their laughter and exaggerated expressions of excitement stopped him short.
“May I help you, sir?” questioned a pretty young blonde holding a bright yellow ball.
“Hi, I’m Keylan Kingsley—”
“KJ, what are you doing over here?” Sandra asked. “I thought you were working with Coach Wanda.”
“I was until I ran across these cool kids,” he replied to an approaching Sandra before turning back to the laughing children. One little boy with a head full of curly brown hair caught his attention. He was trying to maneuver a ball twice his size and Keylan was impressed by his determination.
“Yes, they are. This is the Down’s class from our special needs school,” Sandra explained.
“I didn’t realize the Down’s class had gotten so big. I knew our foundation school was growing, but I had no idea just how much.”
“Yep, and that’s due in large part to the efforts of this wonderful lady,” she proudly proclaimed. “Coach Cathy Hooper, this is KJ. He plays for the Houston Carriers.”
“Yes, I know. Nice to meet you,” Coach Hooper said, her face flushed.
“The pleasure is mine,” he replied.
“KJ will be helping out here from time to time.” Sandra turned back to KJ. “Follow me. I’ll take you to Coach Wanda. She’s in the big gym.”
“Actually, I think I’d like to spend some time with these guys right now. Can you see if it’ll be okay for me to come by later this afternoon?”
“Sure.”
He turned to Coach Hooper and gifted her with a megawatt smile. “That is, if you don’t mind a little help?”
“Of course not. But are you sure you want to work with my kids?” She looked over her shoulder and laughed as several of the kids chased her assistant. Coach Hooper returned her attention to Keylan. “They’re beautiful, sweet and a whole lot of fun, but I’m not sure they’ll be interested in basketball.”
“They don’t have to be,” Keylan assured her. He reached across the door, unlocked it and let himself in. “We can do whatever they want, but I might surprise you with what I have in mind.”
“Well, welcome...”
“I guess I’ll go talk to Coach Wanda,” Sandra informed him as she turned to leave.
