Page 30 of Gossip Game

“Hey there, gorgeous. What’s up?”

“My blood pressure after watching that dang game on Sunday.”

His grandmother didn’t mince words. Nor did she believe in coddling. She’d been the one who had cared for Noah while his parents and sister traveled back and forth between Duke Medical Center and their small town in western North Carolina all those years. She was a no-nonsense woman who’d been widowed for longer than she was married.

Meemaw didn’t believe in excuses, either. Beneath her gruff exterior, she had a heart of gold, however. And Noah credited her for every success he’d ever had. If his family were his rock, his grandmother was the boulder that centered them.

He tossed his keys into the ceramic bowl his niece made for him in vacation bible school this summer before heading to the fridge where he refilled his water bottle.

“I told you to stop watching those boys from Dallas,” he teased. “They break your heart every year.” His grandmother’s greatest disappointment in life was that Noah hadn’t been drafted by her favorite team.

Meemaw snorted. “Don’t be smart with me, young man. You’re not so big that I can’t still tan your hide.”

It was his turn to snort. Although, a small part of him didn’t doubt the octogenarian’s determination. If she wanted to lay a hand on Noah, she’d figure out a way to do it.

“It’s a long season,” he said, reciting the mantra of the week.

“Mmm. Tell that to that bully, Bucky Kincaid.”

Noah grabbed the mail his cleaning lady had left on the counter and wandered into the family room, where he slid down onto the leather recliner that he’d paid an outrageous price for.

“Meemaw, I’m going to have dad cut off your cable if you keep tuning in to that idiot’s show.”

Noah’s father had converted an old barn into a two-bedroom, two-bath home for his mother, complete with all the amenities she would need as she aged. The house was connected by a long breezeway to the home where Noah grew up. His grandmother had been living there for four years now and she didn’t show any signs of needing the conveniences for elders any time soon.

“It never hurts to hear what people are sayin’ about you. Even if most of it is a bunch of twaddle,” she said. “Although I agree that your girlfriend could be a bit more supportive.”

He banged the back of his head against the leather chair a few times. “I’ve already told you this. Charlotte Davis is not my girlfriend.”

His grandmother made a disgruntled sound. “Nonsense. Pictures and videos don’t lie, boy. That woman looks at you like you hung the moon. And your daddy still looks at your momma the way you were eying the princess. Don’t even try to tell me there’s nothing there.”

There was plenty there. His junk grew tight just thinking about it. But even if he became a flashy superstar quarterback, he’d never be able to make a woman like Charlotte happy. She was playing in a different league. The attraction would fizzle eventually. His small-town world view would no longer be a novelty for her. She’d get bored. And that would be the unhappy end of it.

Noah had spent his life playing it cool, not making a scene, avoiding the drama while giving whatever he took on his all so as not to be a bother to his family. Or his teammates. He didn’t like to let anyone down. And the thought of being a disappointment to Charlotte Davis was too much to consider.

He sighed. “What you’re seeing is simple chemistry, that’s all. Just two people attracted to one another.”

“I hate to break it to you, Noah, but that’s how most relationships start.”

“We live on different continents.” In different worlds.

“Pfft. What have I always told you about obstacles?”

“Every path has a few puddles. Sometimes you have to get your shoes wet,” they both recited at the same time.

He smiled despite his mood. “The Atlantic Ocean is a pretty big puddle to wade through, Meemaw.”

“So? Give her a reason to come back.”

If only it was that simple.

For starters, he’d had the story all wrong for three years. She hadn’t snuck out of his hotel room that night in London for the reasons he’d thought. Instead, she’d been protecting him. And then she’d come back. Noah scrubbed his hand down his face, embarrassed by the ugly things she’d overheard him say that day.

Christ, he deserved to be alone.

All this time, he’d thought she’d been conning him for his protection. That the woman he’d spent one of the best nights of his life with was an illusion. He’d believed she’d played him for a fool, saying what she thought he wanted to hear.

He’d been a fool, all right.

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