Page 15 of The Way We Win

“It’s probably better to stay back here,” Zane tells him. “It’s filling up with parents out there.”

Jack takes off his ball cap, scrubbing a hand through his soft, dark hair. “Yeah, I’m beat, and Kimmie needs to get to bed.”

Ocean blue eyes roam the room until he finds his daughter holding my hand, then he looks up at me, and it’s like a mini-explosion.

I blink quickly and manage a smile before looking away, my neck all hot.

“I agree with Kimmie,” Garrett announces loudly. “Diets are not allowed at the Coot-Shoot.”

“What’s that?” Liv frowns at me, taking her sleepy baby from Garrett’s arms. “Why are you dieting, Allie?”

I literally want to die. On the spot.

“I’m not.” I do my best to speak quietly, not wanting to discuss this in front of Jack. “I’m just monitoring my sugar intake and not adding more to my food.”

“Oh.” Liv nods, patting Gigi. “Diets never work. The minute you go off one, you go right back to what you were doing before.”

Jack has moved closer to where I’m standing with his daughter, his blue eyes holding mine in a way that has my stomach squirming.

“Are you sick?” Concern laces his tone.

“No,” I answer quickly, wishing I’d never said a word. “It’s just this nutrition study I read.”

“You don’t need to lose weight, Allie.” His brow lowers, and the gruff way he says it is hot as hell. “You look good.”

I swallow air, and it doesn’t matter that he might be fussing at me without raising his voice. I’m hot all over because he just said my body looks good.

I want to thank him and sayright back atcha, big boy. Jack Bradford’s body lookssogood.

Instead, I feel six pairs of eyes locked on us, and these meddlers have enough ammunition as it is.

“Okay.” I huff a laugh, turning to open the refrigerator door and hoping the cool air will calm my blushing. “I’m sorry I even brought it up. I didn’t know it would turn into a federal case.”

“Trust me when I say this…” Craig leans closer. “Healthyis not a word people like at the Coot-Shoot. I’ve been trying it for years.”

“You make it sound like I serve unhealthy food,” Dylan argues. “Peppers are very good for you!”

“I know, I know.” Craig waves her away. “Keep your shirt on, Pepper Spice.”

“It’s all about portion size,” she continues.

“And you saw what happened when I tried to cut back on the portion sizes for French fries.”

“Well, you can’t skimp on the fries.” She returns to her iPad screen. “People get mad.”

“Buddy Outlaw gets mad,” Craig gripes.

Jack takes Kimmie’s hand. “Bedtime.”

“Goodnight, Aunt Deedee!” Kimmie calls. “Goodnight, Miss Allie! Goodnight, Uncle Cray-cray, Goodnight, Uncle Grizz, Goodnight, Major Tom?—”

“Okay, okay,” Jack grins, interrupting her.

Peeking over my shoulder, I love the way he handles her. I love that dimple in his cheek. My lip goes between my teeth, and I wonder what it would be like to take his hand and go homewith him. I’d eat all the sugar he wants. I’d cover him in chocolate syrup and lick it off.

Hell, I’d do anything for him.

“Night, guys,” he says, leading his daughter away.

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