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Ivy squeezed back. “Promise.”

She got into the taxi and waved until the trio was out of sight. Then she sat back in her seat, closed her eyes, and smiled. She was sad to leave but for the first time after one of her yearly trips, she was just as excited to go home.

Chapter Twelve

Colt

Colt wasn’t sure what madness had him sitting in his car at ten o’clock at night waiting for Ivy to get home when he needed to be up at five the next morning for practice. He just knew he had to see her.

Headlights blinded him for a second before he recognized Ivy’s car. He got out of his and made his way over to her assigned parking spot and watched her pull in. Her car door opened, and her leg appeared before the rest of her followed as she stepped out.

“Hey. What are you doing here? Didn’t you get my text?”

“I got it.” He moved forward, caging her in the open car door.

She looked up at him, frown lines marring her brow. “I would’ve texted when I got home, too.”

“I know.” He took another small step forward, crowding her in the small space.

“Then why did you drive over here?”

“To do this.” He cupped her face and brought his lips to hers. They were soft, yielding, and parted for him as he slipped his tongue inside. That right there—heaven. He missed it. Missed her.

He ended the kiss slowly, capturing her bottom lip as he pulled back, reluctant to let it go.

She blinked up at him, her hands, on his hips, moving up to rest on his chest. “My brother’s probably home so we won’t have complete privacy, but you’re welcome to come inside.”

He shook his head. “I’ve got to go. Practice in the morning.”

Her eyes widened. “You came all this way just for a kiss?”

He brushed his thumbs along the silky-soft skin of her cheeks. “Worth it.”

He took a few steps back, freeing her from the confined space. “Pop the trunk. I’ll help you up with your bags.”

She pressed a button on her key fob, and he heard the car door slam as he made his way to the back of the car.

At her front door, he said. “Busy week. Not sure when I’ll be able to see you again. We have our first game on Saturday. I won’t be playing in it, but I still need to travel to Pittsburgh with the team.”

“Why won’t you be playing?” she asked, slipping her key in the deadbolt and turning the knob to open the door.

“I don’t play in any of the preseason games. The risk of unnecessary injury is too great.”

She stepped over the threshold, and he followed her in, dropping her bags in the entry but not going in any farther.

“So, preseason games don’t count?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Then why play them?”

“It gives us a chance to evaluate players fresh from the draft and new team dynamics. The next couple of weeks I’ll be watching a lot of game footage.”

She cringed. “Sounds like fun.”

He chuckled and grabbed her hand, pulling her to him until her front crashed into his. “What will you do with all your newfound free time?”

She tipped her head back. “I got a call from Emerson, the owner of The Parting Glass. Remember I did their brand development?” At his nod, she continued, “Well, she referred my services to a frozen yogurt shop that just opened down the way from her. I got a call from the owner on Friday and set up an appointment to meet Tuesday morning.”

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