Page 58 of Tackle

Emerson’s brow furrowed. “What can he do?”

“He’ll keep an incident log. He’ll also go through my fan mail, see if this Holly chick has tried writing to me, and if so, see what the letters have to say. There are people on his team equipped to deal with shit like this.”

“That’s not overly reassuring. What if she comes back again?”

“If she comes back when I’m not there, call the police and then call me.”

She didn’t say anything but did lay her head on his chest.

He gave her a small squeeze. “Is all forgiven?”

Her head tipped back and he got her beautiful eyes, now swimming with merriment. “Yeah, that four-year-old condom is pretty reassuring.”

He raised a brow. “Only if it was still good.” Unexpectedly, an image of a little girl with black hair and blue eyes popped into his head. Though they were nowhere near the part in their relationship where they were ready to say, I do, surprisingly, the thought of a mini replica of Emerson running around didn’t freak him out. In fact, he was growing to really like the idea.

She chuckled, snapping him from his fantasy. “That’s not what I meant, but if you need reassuring on that front, I’m on the pill.”

He rolled her to her back, hovering over her. “Does that mean we can ditch them altogether? I think we can both agree, I'm clean.”

“Seeing as it’s been nearly as long for me too, I agree, I think we’re safe.”

“Then I say, let’s stop talking and put our mouths to better use.”

“One last thing,” she murmured. One of her arms came up to wrap around his neck, her fingers diving into his hair. Her other hand found his jaw, her thumb caressing over the stubble. Her eyes softened. “What you said earlier… I love you too.”

The non-talking portion of their evening lasted all night but fuck if being tired at practice the next day hadn’t been worth it.

Chapter Twenty

The Holly drama just wouldn’t end.

Emerson gritted her teeth as the woman in question walked through the door of her pub a little over a week later.

Logically, there was no reason for her to be there. She’d already gotten an autograph—which was fucking tattooed on her chest—and a picture with Oz. There was nothing else the woman could possibly want. Besides her man.

And that, Emerson wouldn’t stand for.

Stopping dead in her tracks, Holly’s eyes flew around the restaurant, seemingly taken aback when she noticed Oz’s booth was empty. Understandable, as it was a rare afternoon when Oz wasn’t there. And normally he would’ve been, but he was with Linc.

After the past week of constantly being in Oz’s company, Emerson felt his absence. Oz hadn’t lied, he was a methodical man. And how that translated in the bedroom was one very patient, very thorough lover. Either her place or his, they woke up together.

Holly’s eyes locked on her.

Emerson pulled out her phone and texted Oz. She hated to bother him but knew he’d be upset if he found out after the fact that she hadn’t informed him his number-one fan had come for a visit. Slipping her phone into her back pocket, she grabbed the cordless landline and rounded the bar.

“Where is he?” Holly asked as soon as Emerson approached, her eyes flying wildly about the room.

“Oz isn’t here,” Emerson stated matter-of-factly, not wanting to escalate things if she planned to leave peacefully once she realized Oz wasn’t there.

“It’s Friday. He’s always here on Friday. Where are you hiding him?”

Or maybe not.

“Listen, Holly,” Emerson used the woman’s name, trying to connect to her on a personal level. “He’s really not here. I don’t know where he is,” she lied.

“You’re his girlfriend. You should know. If I were his girlfriend, I would know.” Her eyes narrowed into slits. “You don’t deserve him.”

Andthe creepy psycho level of the program just went up a notch. Heart rate quickening, she discreetly moved her thumb to the on button of the phone. She’d try one more time to get Holly to leave peacefully, then she was calling the police. A few eyes were on them, but no one had noticed anything amiss yet, and Emerson wanted to keep it that way.

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