Page 24 of The Wedding Deal
“If you want to see something really impressive,” Lance said, raising his voice, “you should see what this girl can do when it comes to stats. Charlotte, tell my brother his football stats.”
The prickling from a few seconds ago spread, along with a flush of heat. “I’m sure he knows them.”
“Come on.” Lance squeezed her hand again, making her realize they were practically holding hands, and she told herself it was a friendship sort of hand-holding so it was fine, even if it made her voice come out wobbly.
She rattled off the facts and figures that summarized his career so far, and when Mitch asked for one of his teammate’s stats, she demonstrated her party trick again.
Lance twisted toward her and bent his head. “See. It’s impressive.”
Yeah, she’d impressed people with it before, and they’d used her for it. At least this time it was to advance her career and so that her football team could have a chance at improving, but still. “I feel like your dancing monkey.”
He didn’t move, his face so close to hers, and the apprehension her past had stirred up faded to the background. “You dance?” he asked.
“Nooo,” she said with a laugh.
“Might have to teach you that, too. For the wedding.”
She patted his shoulder. “Let’s take it one impossible task at a time, champ.”
His low laughter traveled across her skin and settled deep in her core. She had no idea how long she’d been grinning at Lance, her hand on his firm shoulder, when she realized his mother was watching them extra closely.
Maribelle was utterly beaming at them, and from that twinkle in her eye, Charlotte was pretty sure she had the completely wrong impression of their relationship.
Chapter Nine
Moonlight danced across Charlotte’s twisted-up hair as she bent to remove her heels. She hooked them in her fingers and straightened, several inches shorter than when they’d exited the restaurant. “There. Much better.”
He extended a hand. “Need me to carry your shoes?”
“I’ve got them,” she said cheerily, practically bouncing on her feet. She said she wanted to walk along the beach for the few blocks to the hotel, and he’d offered to go with her. A walk sounded nice, the temperature was perfect, and he found that without forms at her disposal, he liked spending time with Charlotte. Especially the beach version who dug her toes into the sand and spun in a circle for no apparent reason, like she’d done earlier today and was doing so now.
She’d completely charmed his entire family at dinner. Dad liked to tease people, who often didn’t get that he was joking, but Charlotte had given it right back. Add in the remarks about football and showing off her stats knowledge, and how easygoing she was about their big, boisterous group, and that couldn’t have gone any better.
As he’d hugged Mom goodbye, she’d commented on how smart, kind, and beautiful Charlotte was.
In other words, Mom had decided they should be more than work associates. Which was good. It’d keep her off his back for a while, and Charlotte knew the truth. All in all, this might turn out even better than he’d expected.
“I love the beach. If I was rich, I’d buy a big house right here.” She stopped mid-spin and faced him. “Why don’t you have a house on the beach? Ordoyou?” She brought a hand up over her mouth. “Never mind. That’s really none of my business.”
“Yeah, getting way too personal there,” he teased. “We lived inland growing up, and my parents still do, but we came to the beach fairly often. We visited my grandfather in Texas now and then, too, and he took us to the beaches down there if it was the off season.”
She cocked her head. “Why didn’t your mom and dad inherit the team?”
A more personal question than the beach house one. Not that he minded—she seemed a bit like a cat. Curious to a fault, although she tried to stifle it. “You heard my mom say she tried to stay away from the football world. She dealt with my dad doing all the required training and traveling for years, and when he retired, she talked nonstop about how done she was with it and how she was glad they could finally live their lives.
“When my grandfather drew up his will, he asked if she was sure she didn’t want it. She said no and made him promise he wouldn’t burden my dad with it, either.”
A crinkle creased Charlotte’s brow, assumedly because she was wondering the same thing he had when Mom let him know about the will and his role in it—how it’d be a burden. Yeah, he understood it involved a lot of big decisions and spending and taking in a lot of money. He didn’t fully understand until the weight of it had fallen on him.
“My dad had a minor heart attack a while back,” he explained. “It scared us all, and Mom doesn’t want him to have extra stress. My ticker’s in better condition.”
“Because it’s made of ice?” she asked, completing another spin.
“Yep, that’s me. Cold, calculating.”
She held out her arms as if she needed to recalibrate herself. Then she stepped up next to him. “So not true. I thought that at first when you were insulting everyone and firing them, but after seeing you with your family… I was just teasing, you know.”
“I know.”
