Page 83 of The Wedding Deal
“Still.” She put a hand over her heart. “Messing with your poor mother’s emotions like that.”
Charlotte smiled at him over his mom’s head, and he winked at her. “I promise that I fully realize what I have, and how lucky I am that she gave my sorry ass a second chance.”
“Language!” Maribelle said, which saved Charlotte from having to— They were in a professional environment after all.
Lance and his dad exchanged a quick bro hug and stifled their emotions together, and then they settled into their seats right in time for the coin toss.
Two minutes into the game, Gavin fumbled. Charlotte fought the urge to bury her head in Lance’s shoulder while Williams strung together an impressive amount of swear words that no one dared to reprimand him for. Not when they’d all been thinking a variety of the same thing.
“He’s getting there,” Charlotte said, squeezing Lance’s hand. “Everyone fumbles from time to time.” Now that she knew Gavin Frost better, not only did she think he was the best quarterback for their team, she genuinely liked him as a person. He was funny and hardworking and a total team player. But he’d instantly won her over when he’d shown up for his first official day as a Mustang with his best friend since childhood in tow, an adorable blonde named Julie. They explained that she worked as a pathologist in Phoenix now, but that every big step one of them made, the other person showed up for if at all possible, and becoming a Mustang was a huge step. The two of them kept up via phone and computer, and Charlotte made a mental note to see about getting Julie to a game. Maybe that’d help steady him, and she cursed herself for not thinking of it before.
It’s okay. He’ll make up for his mistake during our next possession.
Lance glanced toward the door, and it hit her that he’d been doing that a lot.
“Are you expecting someone?” she asked.
He gave a noncommittal head wobble before scooting forward in his seat, his attention back on the game.
“That’s our boy, shutting them down,” Charlotte said as their first draft pick, Darius Fox, sacked the other team’s quarterback, forcing them to kick off.
The door opened, and Charlotte did a double take when her dad walked in. She slowly stood, blinking, thinking it might be a mirage. She felt Lance behind her. He wrapped his hands around her shoulders. “I’m here if you need me,” he whispered.
“Hi, Dad,” she said, and he walked over and hugged her. They’d met up a few times since she’d gotten back from her trip. He was doing well, working his construction job and going to meetings, but they still had some work to do on their relationship, and thanks to her crazy schedule, they hadn’t seen each other much.
She introduced him to Lance, who leaned around her to shake his hand.
“We chatted on the phone,” Lance said, “but it’s nice to meet you in person.”
Charlotte glanced over her shoulder at him.
“I thought it’d be nice to have our families at the game.” He lowered his lips to her ear. “He said he wasn’t sure he could come, so I didn’t want to get your hopes up.”
That explained why he’d been extra cagey.
A strange, extremely proper air seized the box for a minute or two, but then they started cracking jokes and cheering and coaching the players who couldn’t hear them.
The game went back and forth. The other team would score, and the Mustangs would answer, but they never managed to take the lead.
“He’s going for it?” Lance asked when Coach Bryant sent the offense out for the fourth down.
There were still four minutes to go, but they needed a touchdown to win. It was a risky play. They needed three and a half yards for a first, and if they turned it over on the other team’s forty-yard line, they could—and most likely would—make a field goal that would put them far enough ahead that the Mustangs would need to score twice to have a shot at winning.
“We hired Sean because he takes risks,” she said, despite worrying it was too great of one. Usually she was a go-for-it kind of gal, but they needed to start winning games to get and keep fans in the seat—not to mention to have a shot at playoffs—and the pressure was so much stronger now that she’d tied her life to Lance’s.
Both the fan side and her professional side were internally screaming.
They erupted along with the crowd as Nitrofanov, the rookie running back the team had dubbed Nitro thanks to his explosive speed, broke through a gap she hadn’t even seen and ran the three and a half yards…
Plus another ten.
Hit the twenty-yard line…
The ten…
“He’s going to score.” Charlotte slapped a hand over her mouth, scared she’d jinxed it, but her dad grabbed her free hand and squeezed tight.
“He’s got it,” Dad said.
