Page 44 of Love in Fine Print

“Are you sure? I don’t want to be any trouble.”

“No trouble,” I assured her.

I opened the front screen door and headed up to do the repair. On the way up the stairs, my phone vibrated. I grabbed it and saw that it was a text from Kelly Sharpe. She’d been the team’s PR rep the entire time I’d played for the Marauders.

Kelly:Hey stranger! I’m going to be in SF this weekend and was wondering if you had time for dinner tomorrow night…to catch up.

There had always been something between us. We’d acknowledged the attraction, the chemistry, but mutually agreed that we shouldn’t act on it. I’d been a rookie at the time we met, and she was in her probation period.

Over the years, I’d catch her staring at me a little longer than was professional. Our eyes would lock at events. In the time we’d known each other, she’d had several serious relationships. The last one had turned into a marriage. Jordan Kent was a sports talk radio host and the two of them seemed to be happy. At least from the outside looking in.

Last month, I’d seen that she’d changed her last name on her socials, removing Kent from them and went back to Sharpe. She’d taken off the hyphen that she’d added when she’d married Jordan. I didn’t need to be Sherlock Holmes to put the clues together.

She’d changed her name and was now texting me to see if I’d like to have dinner and catch up. She was clearly single. And, since I no longer played for the organization she worked for, there would be no conflict of interest, or unprofessionalism if we did cross that line.

It was exactly the sort of miracle I needed. I knew Kelly, so I didn’t have to worry about her only wanting to be with me just because I’d played in the NFL. In fact, she hadn’t wanted to be with me because I played in the NFL.

She was smart. Ambitious. Family oriented. Stunningly beautiful. And if that wasn’t enough, she also had a great sense of humor and a huge heart.

Also, she wasn’t interested in anything casual, her track record had proved that. She was a relationship girl, which was exactly what I needed. I needed to be in a serious relationship with someone.

I quickly texted her back a time and restaurant where I was sure I could get us a reservation on short notice. Before I could put my phone back in my pocket, it vibrated again with a notification that she’d ‘loved’ the text. I watched as bubbles popped up before a message appeared.

Kelly:See you then! x

One single lowercase x represented a kiss. It was flirty without being obvious. It showed that she was ready to cross the professional boundaries that we’d always respected. The prospect of doing so should excite me. I should be looking forward to Saturday night and counting the minutes until I was going to see her.

We’d shared years, over a decade, of foreplay. Stolen glances. “Accidental” touches. The occasional slow dance at an event. But we’d never acted on the attraction that had always been the undercurrent of our relationship.

So why wasn’t I chomping at the bit to go to dinner with her?

As I came downstairs, I heard voices. One of them sounded very familiar.

“So, are you one of Ben’s clients?”

“Yes, I am.”

I instantly recognized the voice. It was Olivia Bradshaw. My heart rate increased as I jogged the rest of the way down the stairs.

“Well, Dolly sure does seem to love you,” Miss B observed.

“We’ve met before.”

I walked out onto the porch and Olivia lifted her head. Her eyes met mine and the impact was a punch in the solar plexus. I wasn’t sure why she had this effect on me or if it would ever stop occurring.

But I did know I would gladly spend the rest of my life finding out.

19

OLIVIA

When I saw Ben,my heart stopped, and my mouth watered. He was wearing gray sweats and nothing else. Well, he had on shoes and might have on some boxer briefs, but he was shirtless, just like he’d been at the park. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen the man’s naked torso, and I prayed it would not be the last.

The width of his shoulders, the plane of his broad chest, the definition in his washboard abs, and the chiseled perfection of his arms all conspired to create a work of art. His body was truly a masterpiece.

“Oh, Ben look, who's here!” Miss B exclaimed. “You have a visitor.”

I realized then I hadn’t greeted him. “Hi.”

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