Page 27 of Tangled with the Tight End

My parents aren’t old, but I was a surprise. They tried for several years to get pregnant, gave up, and surprise, here I came. In their early fifties, they still have plenty of life left in them. But do we have to talk about the life part they’re discussing?

Gabriel holds the vehicle door open for his mother in front of Eden’s house, and there goes the butterflies. The fluttering makes it hard to catch my breath.

“Who is that?” My father cocks his head and frowns. “Is that Marco’s brother and their parents?”

“Yes.” My voice is stilted to avoid giving anything away.

“The football player?” His hand is on the door handle. My dad loves football. When Eden started dating Marco, he was in heaven, pelting him with questions and hanging on his every word. We even caught a few of his games before he retired. Now, he has a new victim.

“Yes, that’s him, but you wait until we stop before you accost him and ask for his autograph.” I roll to a stop as he and his parents turn to see who’s arrived. Gabriel’s gaze meets mine, and my chest tightens even more.

Before I turn the engine off, my dad is across the sidewalk and pumping Gabriel’s arm up and down in an enthusiastic handshake.

“This is going to be fun,” my mom mutters as she climbs out of my vehicle with the container in her hands. She’s never been a big sports enthusiast.

Once they’ve introduced themselves, my dad pulls Gabiel to the side. “So, tell me about Gunner Sinclair. Does he really have a slingshot for an arm? Or is it all an illusion?”

“He’s that good.” Gabriel is dead serious as Gino latches his arms around his grandfather’s neck and watches my dad like a hawk.

“Damn.”

“Dad.” I chastise him because of little ears and nod toward Gino.

“Right, sorry.” My father shoves his hands into his pockets. “I haven’t been around little kids for a few years. I forget we need to watch what we say.”

“He’s a little mimic.” Santino laughs and pats his grandson’s back with his free hand as he walks past his wife. “Teresa, let’s go inside.”

“Norah!” My dad calls out as Gabriel’s parents go inside while chatting with my mom. “Have you met Gabriel?”

“Yes, Dad, I’ve met him.”

My father spins on his heel and glares. “And you didn’t say anything on the ride over? I thought I raised you better after all those years of Sunday football games.”

One corner of my mouth arches upward. “And Monday night. And a few random Thursdays.”

“Thank God.” He clutches his chest. “I thought you’d forgotten our ritual of yelling at the TV and talking….” He glances toward Gino as Santino opens the front door. “Crap about the referees.” He shivers hard at a gust of wind. “I’ll see you inside. It’s freezing out here.” He ambles to the door but swings his head around as Santino holds the door open for him. “I’ll catch you later.”

He’s right. It’s cold. Too cold to stand out here. At least, that’s what I tell myself. It has nothing to do with the fact that as soon as the door shuts, Gabriel and I will be alone outside.

Gabriel grasps my upper arm and arches an eyebrow. “I had the distinct impression you didn’t care for football.” His eyes bore into mine, and I swallow hard. The man is too good-looking to be real.

“I never said that.”

“So….” He pauses. “You only disliked me?”

“I didn’t say that either.” My heart clamors in my chest like a hummingbird trying to break free.

He clears his throat. “Have you watched me play?”

That’s a loaded question. It’s on the tip of my tongue to lie, but the truth comes out instead. “Yes, I’ve seen you play.” I shrug. I’m not sure how I didn’t recognize him the first time wemet. Maybe it’s because he had such a cranky expression on his face. And I had no idea he was coming to Evergreen Lake for a visit. “You’re good. One of the best.”

“Really?”

I cock my head sideways. “I’m fairly certain you know you’re good and don’t need to seek my opinion to validate your ego. Your team pays you a lot of money because you’re good.”

His eyes narrow, but not in an irritated way. I blink. How did he get so close? His body heat mingles with mine, yet we remain far enough apart that we aren’t touching. The butterflies flutter again when his gaze dips to my lips. His voice is low when he says, “I like knowing you’ve watched me play and approved.”

“You beat our team 31 to 17 last year and scored two touchdowns.”

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