Page 54 of Just One of the Groomsmen
The ball was hiked, everyone sprang into motion, and Addie ran straight for Tucker. With the guys being significantly bigger, they never full-on tackled her, but they didn’t take it easy, either.
Luckily speed was on her side.
A few plays later, she faked one way and cut another, gaining a few seconds on her defender. She snatched the perfect spiral out of the air, and with some nice coverage from Easton, ran the ball in for the first touchdown of the game.
Of course that only spurred the other team to play that much harder.
They made play after play, going back and forth. A nice pass to Tucker that resulted in a touchdown and the firefighter caught another.
And right when Addie was out of breath and second-guessing how good of shape she was in, Tucker peeled off his shirt and shot it toward the sidelines.
You’ve gotta be kidding me.
She thought she’d been breathless already.
Every ounce of oxygen escaped as she raked her gaze over his shirtless torso, the sweat highlighting every perfect inch, from the corded arms, to the pecs, and holy crap, he had a six-pack.
Apparently lawyering burned a lot of calories.
His stripping set off a chain reaction among the guys—one she refrained from following, despite the sweltering sun—and all of a sudden they had an even bigger crowd gathering.
Women changed course, carrying their groceries or pushing their strollers toward the park. The moms who’d been sitting on the park benches, only lackadaisically paying attention to the game, turned for a better view.
Sure, there were a few guys in the spectator mix—damn it, was that David who’d come out of the dentist office with his staff?
Anyway, her point was they’d definitely snagged the female portion of the crowd’s interest the second the shirts came off.
Tucker set up opposite her, and she worked to act unaffected.
He raised an eyebrow. “You okay?”
Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, so she simply nodded.
Then he winked, and the play had been live for several seconds before she realized she needed to be moving instead of staring.
…
That firefighter prick had tackled Addie—Tucker understood that she was quick, racking up points, and they needed to stop her in order to win, but he didn’t have to hit her so damn hard.
Tucker sprinted over, grabbed the guy’s arm, and yanked him off her.
“What’s wrong with you? This is supposed to be a fun game, not NFL-wannabe hour. The goal isn’t to injure someone, you moron.”
Addie pushed to her feet—slower than usual, too, which made his blood boil—and brushed the grass off her knees. “I’m fine, Crawford. He didn’t hit me that hard.”
He glared at the guy. “Do it again and I’ll show you how hard I can hit.”
The smack on his arm drew his attention back to Addie. “Dude.Take a chill pill.”
“You got one?”
She tilted her head. “I don’t know. Do you have a plastic bubble I could play in? ’Cause that sounds real fun.”
“I get that Shep has some master plan, and this is supposed to be your natural habitat and shit, but these guys are a lot bigger than you. You know that, right?”
That set her off, fire flashing in her eyes as she advanced. “I know someone who’s being a bigger jackass than anyone else right now. Spoiler alert: it’s you.”
Shep came over and put a hand on each of their shoulders. “You two good here? The rest of us would like to play, so why don’t you take out your aggression during the next down, mmm-kay?”
