Page 81 of Their Greatest Strength

Dressed in dark-wash jeans, beaming white sneakers, and a tan long-sleeve the same exact shade as my boots, he turns to face me, grinning wide.

I turn my head to tell the guard that he doesn’t need to follow me anymore, but he’s already gone, hanging back in the tunnel.

A wolf whistle carries through the field, and I shake my head, choking on a laugh when Jamie lowers his fingers from his mouth.

“Goddamn gorgeous,” he calls, heated gaze fixed on me.

I reach him and paw at my dress, clearly fidgeting. “You don’t think I look overdressed?”

“Absolutely not. You’re just showing me up.”

“He’s not wrong. You look amazing. Both of you do. These photos are going to be incredible,” a woman says, joining us.

I turn to her and smile appreciatively. She offers me her hand as I give her a quick once-over.

“I’m Kye, your photographer for the day. I hope you don’t mind starting here on the field today. I’ve been told to focus on the importance of football in your lives,” she explains.

I shake her hand and nod while my stomach pinches. It shouldn’t matter where we get photos taken. We’re here becauseof football in the first place. Photos of anything different wouldn’t make sense.

Jamie moves to my side, hovering. “Thank you, Kye. We’re excited to get started.”

“Great. I guess we can just start with some poses using a ball and go from there. How about you two get together on the centreline, and we can mix the poses up between playful and romantic.”

“Alright,” I say.

Jamie breaks away to snag a football from the pile a few feet away and spreads his long fingers over the laces. His hand is so massive that it makes the ball look regular-sized when I know it would be uncomfortable for me to hold it the same way.

“What about a snap position? Surely you know how to do one of those, Jamie,” Kye suggests, a slight teasing note in her tone.

Something sharp pricks my side when Jamie laughs at her joke, and she lets her eyes wander up and down his body. I ignore the entire interaction and wait for instructions.

Jamie points the ball at her and then asks, “You gonna blow a whistle for me, Coach?”

“I don’t have one. You could teach me how to use my fingers, though.”

My back snaps straight as I pause, stretching out my fingers when they try to curl.

“We’ll just use our imaginations,” I bite out, trapping a growl in my throat. “How do you want us to stand?”

Kye lifts the camera in her hands and points to a spot on the field. “Let’s start with you throwing the ball back to Jamie, and then we’ll move into a second shot. We’ll pose as though you’re tackling him while grabbing the ball. After that, we can do a few more fun poses.”

“Great.”

Silence.

“Here, Bandit,” Jamie murmurs before tossing me the ball.

I barely catch it and push past the embarrassment of that while turning my back to him and waiting for confirmation that he’s gotten in position before doing anything else.

“Yeah,justlike that, Jamie. Maybe bend a bit more. Don’t be afraid to stick your butt out,” Kye instructs.

Clearly, her teasing remarks have begun to fray on my nerves because every word she speaks has me debating throwing the ball at her face.

Jamie laughs again.

Again.

It’s so incredibly innocent. His friendly nature shouldn’t piss me off, but I’m silently encouraging him to tell her to go away.

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