Page 6 of Tight End

Havingmy name roll off this man’s tongue is like its own religious experience, which is why I’m walking back to my car as swiftly as I can.June Morgan. I can just imagine him whispering my name in the dark, his mouth working its way between my thighs—dammit. My desperate libido is what got me into this whole mess in the first place.

Not that I regret a single thing that came from our night together—after all, I did get Oliver, but I don’t need to fall back under his spell. Not when I’m trying to get my life together.

Which is why as soon as I get Oliver buckled in and entertained with one of his favorite shows on my iPad, I put in an earbud and call my sister. She’ll be the voice of reason. She’ll help me get my head on straight. She has to.

“Well, if it isn’t Mom’s minion,” she answers.

I may not be able to see her smile, but I can hear it in her voice.

“Dad and I were talking about you earlier today. All good, of course.”

“Hello to you too.” I barely resist the urge to roll my eyes and pull out of the parking lot, leaving the football stadium behind me. Still, I can’t help glancing at it in the rearview mirror before putting my eyes back on the road. “Still trying to poach me?”

“Oh, yeah.” Poppy laughs, a few pans knocking together, and I imagine she’s about ready to start dinner. “He says he won’t stop sending you job offers until he’s brought you over from the dark side. His words, not mine. I wouldn’t dare. Mom scares the shit out of me sometimes. You might be able to get a raise along with an extra day off to work at the studio.”

“Poppy.”

“What? You don’t have me on speaker, do you? Sorry, Oli, swearing is bad.”

“No, no.” I lower my voice, my gaze flicking back to Oliver, still immersed in his show. “Poppy, I met him.”

“Dad?” She turns the faucet on and off, her slippers shuffling around the kitchen. “Did you skip out of work and go to the golf course?”

“Not Dad.Him.”

She’s quiet for a second, but the silverware rustling around isn’t. “Him? Am I supposed to know who that is? I know I’m quick, June, but you have to give me a little more than that.”

“It was him,” I whisper, turning the corner and letting out a murmured curse as a dick in a Cadillac cuts me off. “The man from the bar.”

“Still not ringing any bells.”

“For Christ’s sake, Poppy. The man from my wedding night.”

“What’s Paul doing in Nashville? Wait. Not Paul.” Shegasps and something clatters on her counter. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying? How did you find him? Did you tell him about Oliver? How did he take the news? Is he still good-looking? You have to tell me everything.”

“Poppy.”

“Oh, was he mad? I bet he was mad. Does Oliver know? What’s going to happen now?”

“Poppy.”

“Are you going to start giving me some details or are you going to keep me guessing?”

So maybe calling her to talk me down was a mistake, but I’m already halfway home, and I don’t have the time to find someone else and hope they’re more reasonable. “He’s coming to my house and I’m freaking out. I was dropping off some divorce papers for Mom, and there he was at the football stadium. And I don’t mean he was a fan hanging out at ... whatever that was. He’s a football player, Poppy. Like a real-life professional football player.”

“Well, that’s hot. Who is he? I’ll look him up.”

And here’s the proof that being around this man turns my brain to Jell-O. He asked mine, but I didn’t ask his. Nope. I just turned and walked away, not questioning anything because my lonely vagina liked how he said my name.

I still have no clue who the heck he is, putting me in the exact same place I was when I found out I was pregnant and had no idea how to even find this man, let alone tell him he was going to be a dad. Here we are almost four years later.

But what if he doesn’t show up? What if he already has a family? A pretty little blond trophy wife, two well-mannered kids, and a golden retriever.

I’m ruining his perfect life.A perfect life that doesn’t include you in it.Jealousy claws at my throat and it burns.

Why would it? He doesn’t owe me a thing.

Damn my mother and the important divorce papers she couldn’t deliver herself. I’m going to destroy a family because she treats me like her personal secretary.

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