Page 6 of The Lucky One

I thank Quinn for my drink and head back out, wondering who came up with Valentine’s Day colors. Enormous pink heart garlands stretch between buildings the width of the street. It’s like Pepto Bismal exploded everywhere.

My mind travels back to the flier for Ever After Farms. I wonder what Bridget is doing. We didn’t interact much at the wedding, but every once in a while she creeps into my thoughts. She’s the one woman in recent memory who couldn’t have cared less who I was.

And that fascinates me.

Almost like she materializes from my thoughts, Bridget appears as I turn onto Main Street. She’s deep in thought, glancing down as she walks and completely unaware that I’m here.

“Hey there, Spitfire. Penny for your thoughts?”

Bridget jumps as I fall into step beside her. When she glances up at me, her cheeks are flushed and irritation dances in her eyes.

“Shouldn’t you be watching your calorie count? The Super Bowl is right around the corner.”

I don’t expect her to know my status on the team, but it still feels like a shot to the gut. If I were joining my team at the Super Bowl, I’d be living a completely different life than I am right now. As luck would have it, I’m here with Bridget.

“Kind of hard to play with this.” I motion to the giant brace on my knee.

She lets out a soft groan and ducks her head. “I’m sorry.”

“I can think of worse places I could be.” With a nonchalant shrug, I take a deep drink of coffee. The women in this town seem to be immune to me. Quinn, Bridget—it’s interesting.Especially in a place that seems to be known for matchmaking. I swear I hear it in every conversation.

I don’t know if I want Bridget to like me or not. Pretty sure I’d make a terrible date right now. But she’s a mystery wrapped up in a pretty bow. Arealpretty bow.

And she’s challenging.

A challenge could help get my mind off how weird everything feels right now.

“If you’re forced to sit out, why aren’t you off on an island somewhere enjoying yourself? This place is small. And cold.” I feel her eyes on me and grin down at her.

Truth be told, I contemplated it. But then I remembered how hard sand can be to walk on with two normal legs and opted out pretty quickly.

“Maybe I want to fall off the map for a while. Small isn’t bad. And I don’t mind the cold. Perfect cuddle weather.”

She rolls her eyes and I contemplate calling her out on it. I mean, itis perfectcuddle weather.Doesn’t she have a fiancé?

I wonder if I can get a glimpse of her ring.

“Shouldn’t you be in PT for your knee? I can’t imagine this place has adequate therapy for someone like you.”

I press a hand to my chest, feigning shock. “Aw, Bridget, does this mean you care?”

She groans with another eye roll, and flashes her left hand at me. Again. “Still engaged, Mr. First Down, Last Nerve.”

Booo.

“I can see, Spitfire. Wedding stress got you all in knots?” I joke, refusing to acknowledge the ripple of jealousy I feel knowing she’s still taken.

“What?”

A few steps later, I realize I’m walking alone. I stop and glance over my shoulder, where Bridget is frozen in place, staring at me.

What did I say?

My knees ache as I walk back to her. I never meant to walk so much after I worked out, but when I get around Bridget I seem to turn into a whole different person.

“You’re tense. Worry wrinkles all over your pretty forehead.” I motion with the hand holding my coffee, sloshing a few drops out of the hole on the lid. “I figure it must be the wedding.”

She chews on her lip, and my eyes snag on the movement. They’re a soft pink today. Last time they were a deep berry color. Both times I’ve noticed how kissable she looks. Which is wholly inappropriate considering her relationship status, but I’m just using my eyes. She’s a beautiful woman and I’m injured, not dead.

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