Page 18 of The Boyfriend Material Novellas

“I’d say the first two have been pretty damn charming.”

“You sure know how to make an event planner feel like a rock star. I’ve never had a client who likedallthe places I’d scoped out.”

“First time for everything,” I say as the car lurches down the street. “But what’s your prediction, Miss Loves-to-Plan? Do you think the last one will shock, awe, and wow us?”

She taps my thigh. This woman is quite handsy, and I love it. “It only has to wowyou.”

“No way. I want you to be impressed. You’re the expert. So, what do you think? Will this be the winner?”

She draws a deep breath, teasing as she says, “I don’t know. Maybe I was taking you to two mediocre places, wanting to blow you away with this last one.”

I narrow my eyes. “Ooh, so you’re a tricky event planner.”

“Of course. I used the old super-sneaky save-the-best-for-last trick.”

“That is so sly. Maybe I need to get you a spandex T-shirt with anSlogo for Christmas.”

Her lips curve into a sneaky grin. “I’ll peek under the tree.”

“Just act surprised, then.”

“I can definitely do that,” she says, looking oh so satisfied. Then her tone turns questioning. “Vaughn . . .?”

“Yeah?”

Her voice is earnest, a little vulnerable, even. “Here’s the funny thing. My brother said you’re pretty easygoing, and I never entirely believe it when someone says that. But you are. And it’s funny because I always thought of you as pretty intense when you played football.”

This catches my attention. “You watched me play?” I can’t help a warm glow of pride. I was damn good on the field, and I like knowing this incredible woman enjoyed my games.

She shoots me a look. “Uh, yeah. Hello. Big-time football fan here. And I might have played a little fantasy football back in the day.”

“I was your lucky charm, right?” I ask with a wink.

“No, I traded you,” she deadpans.

I groan and clutch my heart where she just stabbed me. “Oh, the anguish. I’m utterly devastated.”

Laughing, she nudges my elbow. “Just kidding. Actually, I picked you up for a small amount, and you were definitely an outperformer.”

I blow on my fingernails then buff them on my chest. “It’s always good to exceed expectations.”

“Right? I’d rather surprise people than disappoint them.”

“And you said you hated surprises.”

“I hate being surprised,” she explains. “I love surprising others.”

“I’ll make a mental note to always give you an unmissable heads-up about everything.”

“Yes, please do that. But don’t distract me—we were talking about you. I remember you having this intensity when you played. You were like a tiger, ready to pounce,” she says as the car pulls up at our destination.

We step out and head toward the entrance of a trendy boutique hotel.

“Honestly, that’s one of the nicest things anyone’s ever said to me,” I tell her. She glances curiously at me as we walk. “The pouncing thing. That’s truly what I aimed to do every time I was on the field.”

“Do you wish you still played?”

I sigh heavily, a small pang in my heart. “For a few seconds when I think about it.”

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