Page 92 of Crossing Lines

I snort. “Touché.”

He laughs and says his goodbyes. I’m so grateful that I’m finally getting to know him, really know him on a brother-to-brother level.

At seven thirty, I pull into the driveway with a bag of tacos for dinner. But when I enter, Nina’s not in the kitchen. Instead, I hear her cursing upstairs.

Following her voice, I find her in her room, a massive amount of fabric surrounding her and her sewing machine.

I knock on the door, and she jumps.

“Sorry,” I say. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine.” She turns back to her machine, frowning.

“What’s wrong?”

“The samples are all of different quality, even for the same fabric.” They arrived yesterday from the team’ssupplier so she can choose what to use for each of her designs.

“What do you mean?” I come to her side to look at the fabric.

“This is what I got originally when I agreed to help you.” She holds up a piece of black cotton. “But this is what they sent yesterday. It’s a different color and rougher. That means they probably have batch-to-batch inconsistencies. That’d be a nightmare for producing a high-quality line.”

“So, what you need is a better supplier.”

She nods. “Yeah, more consistent and higher quality.”

“Good thing you’re dating someone who has connections to a country that is one of the biggest textile suppliers in the world. I also have a friend who could help.”

“Really?” Nina glances at me. “Can you introduce me in a video call?”

“Yes, but I have a better idea,” I say. “Let’s go to Türkiye in person.”

“What? We don’t have time for that.”

“We do.” I rub her shoulders. “We’re going to make sure you have the best apparel line in the NFL, and if that means getting fabric from the best country in the world, then so be it.”

She leans back into my touch, and tilts her head up so she can see me. “The best country in the world, huh?”

“Don’t you forget it.” I grin. “But honestly, it’ll savetime by going in person. That way we don’t have to wait for samples and can see them right away.”

“Oh, fine. Take me to the best country in the world.”

I kiss her. I can’t help it. She’s irresistible when she pretends to be grumpy. Hell, she’s irresistible even when she is grumpy.

“Come,” I say, “take a break and eat dinner with me. I have tacos.”

“And let me guess, Elodie also told you they were my favorite?”

“I’ll never reveal my source.” I tug on her hand, and she follows me. “Or should I say sources.”

“Cute, as if anyone knows me well besides Elodie.”

“What about Aria and Stella?”

“We’re friends, but I haven’t even known them for a year.”

I plate up the tacos for us and she asks, “What about you? Who are your best friends?”

“I don’t have any, well, maybe, except for Zeki.”

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