Page 42 of Shootout Daddies
“Well.” Rhett shifts his weight. “Welcome to the circus.”
I nod once. “Thanks. And again, I’ll just need the details so I can pass them along. The scratch isn’t terrible, but it’ll need repainting.”
“Totally understandable,” Ivy says, typing into her phone. “Let me know if you want us to cover it out of pocket instead. Whatever’s easier.”
Rhett watches me steadily. He’s unreadable. Protective, maybe. Or just sizing me up.
I glance between them and try not to make assumptions. They seem close.
More than close, judging by the familiarity. The borrowed jersey. The shared dog.
When Rhett finishes sharing his information, I thank him and nod again, trying to keep it strictly professional.
“I am really sorry,” she tells her boyfriend.
“It’s okay, babe,” he tells her.
I watch their easy interaction. Lucky guy. The woman is absolutely gorgeous, and she keeps looking at him like he hung the goddamn moon.
Rhett offers a quiet, “We’ll make it right,” before turning back toward the elevator.
She hesitates. “Sorry again. I’ll be more careful.”
I give her a quick nod. “Appreciate it.”
And then they’re gone.
The door closes behind them, and I’m left in the garage staring at the scratch on my Audi—and wondering why the hellthe sight of Ivy in a hockey jersey suddenly feels like the most unsettling part of my day.
It’s not just the car.
It’s how quick that moment felt. Like I just walked into a movie scene halfway through, the plot already tangled.
I open my car door and slide inside, the echo of her apology still in my ears.
This city was supposed to be a break from my personal disasters.
Now it’s 6:45 a.m., and I’ve already got a damaged car, a mystery woman in the team’s clothes, and a meeting with the team analyst.
Welcome to Miami.
Let’s see how long I last.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Hunter
By the timeRhett and Ivy walk through the door, I’ve already fed Chloe, rocked her twice, and almost spilled formula down the front of my hoodie.
“She’s down to half a bottle,” I say, cradling the baby in one arm while trying to coax her to drink the last few drops. “Not bad for a rookie, right?”
Ivy’s eyes land on us, and she freezes, her whole expression shifting into something soft and complicated. Rhett moves past her and sets a grocery bag on the counter, but I don’t miss the way he keeps glancing back at her like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop.
She crosses over slowly, sets her purse on the couch, then looks between us. “Okay, what happened?”
I shake my head and lift Chloe’s bottle in surrender. “Feeding success. She might even nap again. You never know. Miracles happen. So why was the building security calling you?”
Rhett steps forward, hands in his pockets. “She scratched our new team lawyer’s car.”
