Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83358 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83358 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Before long, players start walking into the room and I watch as women hug men and kids latch onto their father’s legs in support. The guys wear tired, sometimes pained expressions and the gravity of it weighs on me. Lucky and I have had fun, carefree moments of laughs and jokes and… well, not anything overly serious.
And then… there he is. Walking in by himself, eyes searching the room. He seems to know where I am and locks on me in a way that weakens my knees.
Relief to see me there. A small but sad smile. An apology that the evening isn’t going to go the way we thought it would.
I see all of that in an instant, and I know I’m going to give him whatever he needs and it’s not as scary as I once thought.
His hair is damp, his jaw shadowed with stubble, and he’s wearing a suit but without the tie, collar open at the neck. His vine of four-leaf clovers peeks through and it’s sexy as hell.
“Hey,” he says, soft and direct as he reaches me. His hand touches my waist, his lips on my cheek. I’m acutely aware of Mila, Tempe and Mazzy staring.
I glance at them and they seem to be collectively melting, sappy grins on their faces.
Lucky’s gaze lands on Mila. “Penn said he’ll be a little longer. He’s got to talk to the coach.”
“Is he okay?” she asks, worry in her eyes.
“Yeah… just wants to talk about one of the calls that he was arguing with the ref about.”
I don’t know what that means. I do remember Penn arguing with a ref though and I pin that thought to ask Lucky about it later. Mila nods in understanding.
Lucky turns back to me. “You ready to go?”
I am, but I don’t know where we’re going. It really doesn’t matter because his hand takes hold of mine and it feels right.
“Thank you so much for keeping me company,” I say to the women.
“Anytime. Next game, you sit with us, okay? And we’ll all get together after the next win,” Mazzy assures us.
We say goodbye to the women and weave through other players and family members as we exit the room. Lucky nods to some of them, offers a fist bump to another and then we’re walking down a corridor to a door that says Players’ Lot.
“You okay?” I ask quietly. “That seemed like a hard loss.”
“They’re all hard,” he says with a reassuring smile. “I’m definitely frustrated. We made some mistakes and just didn’t capitalize.” He squeezes my hand. “But that’s the nature of this career. You can’t win them all.”
“Sage words,” I reply as we walk through the lot.
“We’re obviously not going out,” he says as an afterthought. “I assume Kelsey went home?”
I nod. “Yeah… ready to celebrate on another day.”
“She’ll always have a ticket for any game you want to bring her to.”
I melt a little, not sure he even understands what he’s offered. There’s an implication of a future there, that he thinks I’ll be around for a lot longer than the four dates I promised.
Lucky stops and looks down at me. “I’m glad you came to the game.”
“Me too,” I assure him. “And thank you for taking me home. You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to,” he says as we resume our walk and I see his Tahoe five spots down. “While I don’t want to go out to celebrate, I do want to spend time with you.”
Crap… that warms me through and through and my heart thumps like Buttermilk’s back foot. “What do you want to do?”
Lucky’s gaze drifts off as if searching for the answer and then returns to me with sheepish embarrassment. “Honestly… I don’t know.”
I think about it. This is my town, after all. “I have an idea.”
“Going to let me in on it?” he asks, lips curving upward.
“Nope. Give me the keys and I’ll take you there.”
Lucky’s eyes, which have been consistently somber, glimmer with playfulness. “You want me to hand over the keys to my vehicle? I hardly know you.”
I hold out my palm. “Keys. Now.”
Lucky laughs, digs into his pocket and drops the keys onto my palm. And then to my utter shock, his hand goes to the back of my head and he pulls me in for a swift kiss.
“Can you at least tell me where we’re going?” he asks as we start for his vehicle.
“Only to one of the best scenic views you’ll ever lay eyes on,” I promise.
♦
I pull into the lower station near Carson Street around eleven, the city’s pulse finally gentling. The parking lot is mostly empty at this hour, save for a couple of rideshare drivers scrolling their phones and one teenager who looks like he should be home rather than on the streets trying to do kick-flips under a streetlamp.