Page 11 of Provoking the Punter

And while it was also a tax deduction for him, and a chance to network, it was also a charity that meant something to him. He’d been donating before he’d started these dinners. No kid should miss out because their parents didn’t have the money for the field trip, or the sports shoes, or for any activity that would enrich their life.

Garrett considered him for a heartbeat, and Chester swore there was a flicker of something in his blue eyes. His tongue flicked over his lower lip. “Well, don’t you know that’s why I can’t keep a girlfriend?”

The other men at the table laughed.

Chester lifted one eyebrow, as well as his glass, in acknowledgment of the quick retort. Well played, though I doubt that’s the reason you don’t have a girlfriend. The reason is the way you’re looking at me.

There were so many reasons why Chester shouldn’t be lighting these matches. Perhaps, he wanted to smell the smoke and the scent of the strike. He wanted to feel his fingers burn just a little.

He did not, however, want to burn down his restaurant, bar, and distillery, or Garrett’s football career—though one more mistake, and Garrett would do that all by himself.

The woman on the other side of the table leaned forward, flashing a touch too much cleavage. Margot enjoyed flirting with the players, but Chester doubted any of them had followed through. “What was your degree?”

“You’re all going to find it boring, and I’m sure it’s been written about.”

She smiled and gave her shoulders a wiggle.

It was pretty obvious Garrett wasn’t even looking at the cleavage. That was a mistake if he was trying to hide his sexuality.

Garrett leaned forward as if he was about to share a secret with her. It was only then his eyes dropped for a split second. “Accounting and management.”

Margot stared at him. “You really do like math.”

“I do.” Garrett sat back. “Plus, I wanted to keep an eye on where my money is going. I can’t play football forever.”

“So coming to the US to play football was a financial decision?” Chester should shut his mouth and let the business people run the conversation. He was only there to rescue and divert if needed. He was jumping in because he couldn’t resist. He wanted to bump his knee against Garrett’s to see what he’d do, or maybe not-so-accidentally brush the edge of his thigh.

The need to touch him and be sure burned through him. What was he thinking? He didn’t need matches. The fire was already lit.

“Yes and no. I love football.” Garrett's gaze flicked to Chester. He always looked at the person who he was talking to as he answered. He was good at this. “I’ve been playing since I could walk, and I thought I’d missed my chance. Then I heard about some other Aussies who’d come over, and I thought I’d give it a try. And here I am.”

And here he was, indeed.

A second chance to play football.

A second chance on a new team.

Which meant he was either really lucky or really reckless to screw up his first chance. Guys like Garrett, like these business people, they were the ones that got the second chances, and the third chances, and so on.

Men like him had to fight for the first chance, and they sure as hell weren’t going to fuck it up because there might never be a second chance.

The conversation drifted with Garrett answering questions about Australia and traveling and places he’d like to visit, before circling back to who the top teams were and who was going to make it to the Super Bowl.

Garrett danced with words, giving no proper answer as to who he thought would win the season.

“So, who has a better chance of reaching the play-offs: the Copperheads or the Troopers?” the man next to Margot asked. From his expression, he knew it was a loaded question.

“That’s a good question…” Garrett paused as if giving it thought. “Both teams have a lot of good players. I think the fight to the play-offs is going to be a hard one for anyone not already in the top eight, but then it always is because everyone wants their chance for a ring.” Garrett lifted his glass and drained what was left.

Honestly, when Chester reported back to Caitlin, he was going to give Garrett an A+ grade for the way he gave answers without giving anything away. He was the kind of player the Troopers needed to stick in front of a camera, or mic him up for a game. Friendly, cute, and he didn’t seem to ever stumble.

Chester wanted to see him trip… hopefully onto his lap.

Instead of pursuing a career in accounting, when his football career finished, Garrett should be in front of a camera. He should be interviewing or commentating or something.

The man opened his mouth as if to follow up.

Garrett turned to Chester. “So, you’ve got the restaurant, the bar and distillery all on the one premises?”

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