Spread Offense (The New York Nighthawks #11) Read Online Fiona Davenport

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic, Insta-Love, Sports Tags Authors: Series: The New York Nighthawks Series by Fiona Davenport
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 122(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
<<<<3111213141523>26
Advertisement


“Rory!” she exclaimed as she opened her arms, and my girl ran into them.

“Hi, Mom!”

The woman’s eyes shifted to me, and her smile widened. “Well, now, who is this tall drink of water?”

I chuckled while Rory groaned and rolled her eyes.

“Mom, this is Gage Ledger. Gage, this is my mom, Helen Abernathy. She has boundary issues.”

Helen laughed and released Rory, then stretched her hand out.

“I’m happy to meet you.” I moved to shake her hand, but she tugged on it, and I let her pull me in for a hug. “We’re huggers around here.”

“I think Russell and Ridley might disagree,” Rory muttered, though her eyes had an amused twinkle.

“Is that my baby girl, I hear?” An older man, clearly her father, walked up next to his wife and wrapped his arms around Rory.

“Hi, Dad,” she said in a muffled voice since her face was squished against his chest. “Can’t…breathe…”

He chuckled and let her go, but then he tucked her under one arm. When he glanced in my direction, he narrowed his eyes. “Gage Ledger. Can’t say I ever expected to meet you, much less at my house. But as long as you unhand my wife, you’re welcome here.”

Helen snickered and dropped her arms. “Oh, pish, Brad. Can’t you see he only has eyes for Rory?”

“Is that so?” Brad asked, scrutinizing me the way a protective father does.

“Yes, sir. Rory is incredibly special, and I’m lucky she gave me a chance.”

“Damn, right,” he muttered. A spark of respect in his gaze put me a little more at ease. Two down, the toughest two to go.

“Come in, come in,” Helen tittered as she ushered us into the house. “Dinner is almost ready. Rory, the boys are manning the grill and will be in shortly, but Brandy and Phyllis are in the living room.”

Rory led me into a large room just off the entryway, where two women sat on a couch talking.

“Rory!” A tall brunette smiled widely as she jumped up and embraced my girl.

The other woman had red hair and was only slightly taller than Rory. They hugged as well, then Rory introduced the dark-haired female as Phyllis, her sister-in-law, and the redhead as Brandy, her brother’s fiancée.

Before we could say more than hello, two tall, burly guys came rushing in and each swept Rory into a bear hug.

“Have you come to your senses and moved home?” one of them asked.

“Russell, stop harassing her.” Phyllis sighed, linking her arm through his. “Just look at her! She’s obviously thriving in New York. She’s positively glowing.”

“That might have something to do with the sexy football player who is clearly besotted with her,” Brandy giggled, winking at Rory.

“Did you just call another man sexy?” Ridley—I assumed—grunted, glowering at his fiancée.

“The what?” Russell snapped.

Five pairs of eyes were suddenly trained on me.

“Hi. You must be Russell and Ridley. I’m Gage.” I put my hand out, and Ridley, who was standing closet to me, shook it, squeezing a little harder than necessary. If he thought that was supposed to intimidate me, he’d obviously never been up against a three-hundred- and thirty-three-pound offensive tackle. I pressed my lips together to keep from smirking, figuring it wouldn’t help my case.

Russell prowled over to shake my hand, giving it the same treatment. “Football, huh?”

“Running back,” I informed him with a grin.

“Kind of a pansy sport, isn’t it?”

Rory gasped, but I didn’t let her step in for me.

I cocked my head to the side and asked, “How do you figure?”

“For one thing, you play, what? Like seventeen games a season?”

I nodded. “Or twenty-one if you play the Super Bowl.” A grin spread across my face. “And win it, like my team did.”

Russell scoffed. “Baseball teams play one hundred and twenty-nine games a season, if you include the World Series.”

“True,” I conceded. “But baseball isn’t a contact sport.”

“Hockey is,” Ridley interjected. “And those guys can end up playing one hundred and ten games if they go all the way.”

“I’ll give you that.” They both looked a little smug until I added, “But if you look at just about any list of dangerous team sports, hockey is always after American football and rugby.”

“Hockey players break more bones,” Ridley insisted.

“Baseball—”

“Okay, boys,” Brandy piped up. “Put away your dicks, and let's have a civilized meal.”

Ridley grinned at her and murmured, “You love my dick.”

“Ewwwwwwww!” Rory shouted, covering her ears.

I couldn’t help laughing with everyone else. Her family dynamic was so normal, and it made me feel right at home.

“Come on, nerd,” I teased, tucking her under my arm.

“What did you—”

Phyllis clapped Russell upside the head and muttered, “It’s obviously a term of endearment, babe. I would think you’d prefer that to something like sexy or love bunny”—Russell glared at her, and she held her hands up in a gesture of surrender—“just saying…”

Rory sighed. “Are you sure about that whole sticking around thing, geek?”


Advertisement

<<<<3111213141523>26

Advertisement