Page 3 of One Foggy Christmas
“Get me a Coke,” he says as I scoot by him.
I take the stairs two at a time and head for the nearest concession stand, finding my place in the back of the line.
“Hi!”
The greeting is so eager it startles me.
I turn over my shoulder. A guy in a backward Cubs hat smiles big at me. What in the name of handsome men is happeningright now? Sandy-blond hair curls out from the side and back of his hat, complementing his rogue-ish stubble. His gray t-shirt fits like plastic wrap over broad shoulders, snuggly accentuating every muscle. And are those green eyes? Like, for real?
“Hello.” I politely nod then turn forward again, brushing him off as an over-friendly Cubs fan.
“I’ve been watching you all game in a totally non-threatening and non-creepy way.”
I puff out a laugh, glancing back. “Is there such a thing as a non-threatening and non-creepy way to watch somebody?”
“Oh, totally. I think I mastered it here today.” The corner of his mouth lifts flirtatiously. “When I saw you get up from your seat, I knew I had to come and talk to you.”
“You’re not helping your non-threatening argument.”
He laughs a little. “I know, but just hear me out. I’ve been watching you from four rows back, and I don’t think the guy you’re with is that into you.”
“Really?” My brows hike up in amusement.
“The only time I saw you two touch was just now during the seventh-inning stretch, and that’s typical baseball stuff. Everyone sways together during ‘Take Me Out to the Ballgame.’”
I can’t help my growing smile. “Is this some kind of relationship intervention?”
“You could call it that.” His green eyes glow with more cute confidence. “I mean, you’re not even my date, but you haveallmy attention.”
“Wow. Have you been practicing that line the whole game?”
He chuckles good-naturedly, and there’s something about his boyish embarrassment that’s really endearing. “It’s not a line. I honestly can’t tell you the score of the game because I’ve only been focused on you.”
“The Cubs are losing.”
“See, I didn’t know that.”
I’m flattered, but I don’t believe a word he says. I turn fully to him. “And just what about me has you so mesmerized?” This is usually where guys crash and burn and say something stupid like, ‘You have a nice rack.’ I stare at him expectantly, waiting for something of that caliber to come out of his mouth.
“You caught my eye, and I haven’t been able to look away since.”Okay, I’m listening.“You seem happy and full of positive energy. That’s how I like to live my life, so I’m typically attracted to people with that same vibe.” He lifts his fingers, pointing to my face. “And I love your freckles. They’re almost unnoticeable, but when you do see them, they add so much character to your face. And then there’s your smile.” He says it like an afterthought. “You’re just really beautiful. How do you describe that instant spark?”
He passed my little test with flying colors.
Now, it’s my turn to feel an unexpected spark.
“I hate to break it to you”—I straighten, putting up a clear boundary—“but I’m in a relationship already.”
“Yeah, I know. But how serious is it?” He nods back to the seats where Tate sits. “You know, with the guy out there?”
My mouth pulls into a grimace. “Pretty serious.”
“But there’s wiggle room, right? Tell me there’s room for somebody else to maneuver in?”
“I’m afraid not. Me and the guy out there…we’re so serious we’re like life-long-commitment serious.”
“I don’t get that vibe with you two at all.” He tilts his head with so much confidence it’s an unfair advantage over every other guy in existence. “There’s absolutely no romantic connection between the two of you.”
I roll my eyes, giving in to his game. “He’s my brother.”
