Page 35 of The Wedding Deal
Lance peered down at her. In her heels, she came up to his chin. “I figured a numbers girl like you wouldn’t believe in luck or fate.”
A hint of anguish flickered in her features, and he kicked himself too late for not treading more carefully on a subject that never failed to put her on edge. “Oh, bad luck is very real. Although it’s also not a good idea to rely on superstition or good luck, either. So maybe this is reverse superstition?” Her eyebrows pulled together.
Hell if he knew.
A knock sounded on the door, and Charlotte offered to get it while he slipped on his jacket. Mitch, Hunter, Jack, Mom, Taylor, Austin, and Aaron poured into the room. So much for meeting in the lobby.
“We were afraid we might have to come drag you away from your work,” Mom said without him even having to voice his thoughts about the location switch-up. She frowned at him and gestured to his face. “I thought you’d shave for the pictures. Didn’t I send that in a text?”
More than one and they both knew it. But he’d been busy, and, well… “Charlotte likes the scruff.” How was he supposed to shave after she’d complimented the beard and said it suited him?
His mom glanced at Charlotte, who gave him a sharp smile. “I, uh… It is sort of my kryptonite. Of course now I might kill him for outing me before you get to take any photos.” She patted his cheek, hard enough to sting a bit.
Mom ate it up, grinning at the two of them, and he resisted the urge to pump his fist—looked like Charlotte was getting him out of more than awkward forced dates.
His nephews stepped farther into the room, and Charlotte squatted in front of them. “Oh my goodness, you guys look so handsome in your tuxes.”
Austin’s response to that was to tell her about how he’d foundfiveseashells this morning. She oohed and aahed and asked for details, and clearly she didn’t realize just how detailed the kid could get—he’d once told him a twenty-minute story about a goose he saw at the park.
Aaron found the football in the corner and picked it up, his face lighting with glee at the discovery.
Lance clapped his hands and held them out in front of him. “Toss it here. Throw it hard as you can.”
“I swear, Lance, if their clothes get messed up,” Taylor warned, a scary gleam in her eye. “It took forever to scrub off the sand and wrestle them into those suits, and Aaron’s hair sticks straight up if you even look at it for longer than a second or two. It’s like it senses fear.”
“Don’t worry, I got it. I break it, I bought it.”
Taylor sighed, but her attention was snagged away by Mitch’s crooked bow tie, so she went to fussing over that.
Aaron nearly tipped backward with the weight of the ball. He flung his arm forward, and the ball soared through the air, straight and low.
Lance bent to catch it, testing the bounds of his snug tuxedo pants. “Nice.” He held out his hand for a high five, and Aaron rushed forward and smacked it. “You’re gonna play football for the Mustangs someday, aren’t you, buddy?”
“Football,” Aaron said, nodding over and over, like a bobblehead doll.
“I decided I’m going to make pretty dresses,” Austin said, loud and proud. “Like the one Miss Charlotte’s wearing.”
Charlotte glanced away from his oldest nephew and up at him, a hint of panic in her eyes. She even moved slightly in front of Austin, as if she might need to block for him. Did she honestly think he’d care?
“Tell you what, buddy,” Lance said, equally as loudly and proudly as Austin had announced his possible career choice, “I’ll be your first customer. I bet by the time you’re blowing everyone away at design school, Miss Charlotte will need a new dress.”
The worry in her features drained. She beamed at him as she straightened.
“Okay, everyone,” Mom said. “Time to go.”
Lance turned to Charlotte. “Oh shoot, I didn’t have time to call the pilot to schedule a pickup for Coach Bryant.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“Oh, and can you also—”
“Call Galen Michaels and see if he’d be interested in the defensive coordinator position?”
Earlier she’d thrown out his name as an option, and when he’d informed her the guy didn’t talk to anyone anymore and was hard to reach, she nonchalantly announced that she had his number and they were friends. Evidently back when he’d played for the Mustangs and found out she walked home alone, the huge linebacker had taught her self-defense moves. “Please.”
“I’m on it. Now, go.”
He turned toward the door, sure that any minute Mom would yell at him to stop dilly-dallying. But he only made it one step before he pivoted back around. “You told me that I was on my own, but you were wrong. I have you. You’re my Sam.”
