Page 104 of Kiss Me Tonight

Her blue eyes search mine. “I have . . . I have—” Her fingers grip my T-shirt, coiling the fabric sharply between her knuckles. “I have a Harry.”

My brows pull together. “The football whisperer? Harry’s in your house?”

“Is that really what you call him?”

“The kid’s gonna go far, Asp. If there’s one thing I know how to spot after all these years, it’s natural skill. Harry has it in spades.”

That makes her pause. “And Topher? Does he have it too?”

I kiss her forehead gently. “Sometimes natural skill can get you in trouble—you lack the hustle. Topher’s like me. Dogged determination. Aggressive ambition. There’s no right or wrong way up the ladder. It all comes down to sheer will and hard work.” Fingers brushing her hip, I murmur, “You know how that goes, Ms. Lou Groza. Not every day someone I know has won the award for the best kicker in the NCAA.”

A pretty blush stains her cheeks. “You looked me up?”

“Had to know what sort of talent I was up against. I’m a little disappointed LSU and BC never played against each other in the bowl game. Just imagine the meet cute we could have had if we’d run into each other years ago.”

It’s a solid attempt to make her laugh and it works. Her smile brightens even as she rolls her eyes. “The fact that you saidmeet cuteis right up there withdillydally.”

“Speak for yourself, Ms. Lollygag.”

“I think I like Ms. Lou Groza better.”

I step forward, pushing her back into the house. “I knew you would. You’re as competitive as I am. I’m still bruised from the night we went swimming. Do you know how pointy your elbows are?”

“You big baby.”

I glance over at her, not even bothering to hide my shit-eating grin. “Endearments, huh? Imagine what you’ll be calling me after I make you come again.”

“Dominic!”

“Nah, we’ve already reached a first-name basis, Aspen.” I sidestep around her, pizza boxes raised high, so I don’t knock her knickknacks off the entryway table. “Now how about we take this to the kitchen table. Call in Topher and Harry. We’ll figure out whatever is going on.”

“Tim is here too.”

“Timmy, you mean?”

She gives a loose-limbed shrug. “He wants to be called Tim now.” She pauses, hand on my arm. “By the way, did you happen to tell Topher that he’s got a . . . how did he put it?A pansy name?”

The grin I give her is all boyish innocence. “Pansy name? Nah, Coach, that wasn’t me.” Her eyes narrow suspiciously and I bop her on the nose, just to mess with her. “I believe the way I phrased it to him was,what kind of hippie-dippie name is that?”

She rubs her hand over her mouth, raking her gaze up and down my frame like she doesn’t know what to do with me. “I should hate you for telling my son to go by the name Chris.”

“NowthatI didn’t say. The only Chris’s I’ve ever met are douchebags.”

“Is that so?”

“No,” I murmur, trying hard not to laugh, “but you hated me less for a solid ten seconds when I said that, didn’t you?”

“I . . . I—”

I lift my brows, waiting. “You . . .?”

“You’re a piece of work.”

“A work in progress,” I counter with a wink. “Ninety-percent completed, ten-percent chaos.”

She shakes her head, her blond hair falling forward to frame her face. “Ten-percent chaos. There must be something dreadfully wrong with me that that’s the part of you I like best.”

“I’m willing to roll the dice and say that you don’t regret that fact at all.”

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