Page 40 of Sack

“Regardless, it’s now rule number four.”

Her jaw locked and she gritted, “Fine. I just won’t accept it.”

“Per our new rule number four, you have to.”

“Then I’ll leave it in the box and won’t use it.”

“That would be a waste.” Then, in a super sexy voice, he said, “Besides, I know you really want it.”

And that had a whole bunch of other images popping into her head and not one of them involved a new laptop computer.

She cleared her throat. “That’s hitting below the belt.” Literally.

“Just give it a try.” And then he hit just above the belt, making her stomach do a crazy flip, by adding, “Please.”

She had no defense against that and reluctantly gave in. “Fine.”

“Thank you.”

“Just for the record, thatpleasewas also a low blow.”

He softly chuckled. “I’ll have to remember that.” In the background she heard a male voice call Colt’s name. “I’ve got to go. I’ll call you tonight.”

“Okay. Oh, and Colt.”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

His voice grew warm and intimate. “You’re welcome.”

She clicked her phone off, set it on the counter, and turned her attention back to the box.

After a moment’s hesitation, she grinned and carried it upstairs.

Chapter Nine

Colt

For what seemed as though the hundredth time, Colt looked through the crowd of people toward the entrance to the gym.

Ivy should’ve arrived fifteen minutes ago.

They had a good turnout. Hundreds of adults and children mulled and scampered about the gym and spilled into the parking lot. They huddled around the concession carts that sold a variety of snacks like soft pretzels, popcorn, nachos, and hot dogs and sweet treats ranging from ice cream to churros. It was mostly kids who packed the gaming stall, playing a variety of video games set up for their entertainment. It also housed the deluxe gaming system that would be auctioned off later that afternoon.

Some of his teammates mingled, signing autographs and posing for pictures with fans.

“Mr. Colton?” He felt a tug on the hem of his t-shirt and looked down. A little boy stared up at him with a gapped-tooth grin.

Smiling back, he squatted. “Call me Colt. What’s your name?”

“Bobby.”

“Nice to meet you, Bobby.” Colt tipped his head at the football clutched in the crook of the boy’s arm. “Do you play?”

Bobby shook his head. “Not yet. My daddy bought this for me yesterday so you can sign it. You’re my most favoritest player.”

“And where is your dad?”

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