Page 21 of With A Little Luck
For all the good it did you, some dark part of my brain taunts.
“Who are you?” Pete grinds out.
Pulling my hand off Quincy’s hip, I extend it, smirking. “Hartley Adams.”
It takes several slow blinks for him to recognize the name. His hand rises, and we shake, even though it’s the last thing I want to do.
I’ve been retired for two years. Fine, technically speaking, I barely finished out my contract and was medically advised not to risk another season. I still met my goals for my career, and I was actually relieved to take a step back and live a simpler life.
The first year was insane.
I had to keep security with me at all times, but I let them go six months ago once the press finally died down after the world realized I wasn’t stepping back on the field.
Could I have done the additional surgeries the team doctors were pushing?
Yeah, but there was no guarantee it would have put my shoulder back to where I needed to be, and the risks didn’t outweigh the benefits.
At least, not in my humble opinion. Not that my coaches, the team owners, the press, or the American public agreed.
“Anyway, Pete. Great to meet you,” I lie. “If you need to pop back in, don’t do it in the middle of the night. Quincy needs her rest.”
Fuck me.
It’s not even ten p.m.
What am I?
Eighty?
The next thing I know, I’ll be doing the Sunday crossword puzzle and yelling at kids to get off my lawn.
“I’ve been calling you,” the idiot says, completely ignoring me as he stares down at Quincy. “My boss has put in offers on three other homes on this street. We’d like to set up an appointment to go over the generous compensation package we’re offering.” He reaches into his suit coat pocket, pulling out a card. “They’replaying ball. You should too. This entire area is slated for demolition. A developer wants to put in condos.”
Quincy makes some strangled sound in the back of her throat as he shakes the card at her.
“Thanks again for stopping by.” I snatch it from his outstretched fingers. “It’s time for you to go.”
“I’m just saying…” the dick says over his shoulder as he turns toward the door. “Your boyfriend clearly has money. Why would you want to keep this dump?”
He opens the door and leaves, allowing it to close loudly behind him.
“Well, that was fun.” Quincy spins in my hold but doesn’t step back, and the baby belly brushes against my lower abdomen as she moves to face me. “I’m sorry that he assumed the baby?—”
“Who gives a fuck what he thinks?” I shrug, planting my hands on her hips. “I don’t.” Tilting my head down toward hers, I grin. “But seriously, that guy? How desperate were you?”
Her cheeks turn pink, and she glances away. “I missed a lot of things because I was preoccupied with my grandmother, but I thought he liked me.”
“You’re like a million times out of his league.” I push the card into my pocket and pull a hand up, bringing it to her cheek. “Are you okay?”
She nods, chewing on her bottom lip.
It takes everything in me not to tug the thing free and shove my mouth to hers. Her sweet coconut and cream scent is everywhere, and everything in me aches to soothe her.
“Want to finish the movie, or should I head out?” I ask, studying her bright blue eyes.
She shrugs and glances over her shoulder at the door. “You can stay. I kinda don’t want to be alone.”
“Movie, it is.” I step around her and stretch to lock the door. “Come on, the couch is calling our names.”
