Page 63 of Hard Hitter

I knew that look. She was about to jump headlong into trouble.

“You know, I always wanted to go to the reception for a medical conference at a swanky hotel. Sounds like the perfect first date.” She pulled me from my seat and out of the restaurant, looking over her shoulder with mischief in her eyes. “Want me to drive?”

Fuck. I might love her.

20

The Preston Hotel was as pretentious as my uncle, which was an impressive feat. I should have known any conference he deigned to attend would appeal to his inflated sense of worth. The valet helped Chloe out of the car, and I had a moment of déjà vu back to the alumni dinner.

Her dress was shorter, but my blood still burned to touch her. This time, I didn’t hold myself back, curling my arm around her waist and holding her against me as we found the correct ballroom hosting the conference reception.

It didn’t take long for Craig to notice us, considering everyone else in the room wore cocktail attire. Chloe’s dress could pass, but my jeans stuck out.

The man himself wore a navy suit with a subtle pinstripe. He stood several inches shorter than me, with a slim build and long graceful hands. At first glance, we looked nothing alike. His wavy brown hair only showed hints of a red undertone, but his green eyes matched mine.

“Noah?” Craig offered me a pleased smile, but I could see the edge to it. He didn’t like surprises, and despite asking me several times to make an appearance, he wanted me to do it onhisschedule.

A small, petty part of me took joy in unsettling him, especially since he couldn’t voice the frustration I saw in his eyes. Probably not a healthy reaction to the man who’d raised me.

His gaze darted to my arm wrapped around Chloe, then back to me. I had to give him credit for retaining his polite smile.

I tugged her forward, letting go of her waist to slip my hand into hers. “Uncle Craig, this is Chloe Asher, my girlfriend. Chloe, this is Dr. Craig Olsen.”

The lines around his mouth tightened when I left off the rest of the qualifications he insisted I use when introducing him, but he extended his hand to shake Chloe’s.

“What a wonderful surprise. I wasn’t aware Noah was seeing anyone.” The jovial welcome sounded false to me, and judging by Chloe’s half-smile, she’d picked up on the insincerity.

“It’s nice to finally meet you.” The feral grin she offered him confirmed I hadn’t imagined the threatening undertone of her words.

I freely admitted I usually enjoyed Chloe’s brand of trouble, but I’d been conditioned my whole life to present a certain image to the world at large. Despite the clear evidence of my dad’s letter, I wasn’t ready to set fire to my relationship with my uncle just yet.

“If you have a minute, I’d like to speak to you in private,” I told him.

“Of course, but first, let me introduce you to Dr. Allen Hastings. He’s a fan of college football.” Craig waved over an older guy with a head of fuzzy white hair that made him look like he’d electrocuted himself at some point in the evening.

“Allen, this is my nephew, Noah. He plays football for Teagan University.” Craig ignored Chloe standing next to me. When I chanced a peek at her, she squeezed my hand and her sharp smile softened.

Allen came over to ask me about the off season so far. I wasn’t used to talking about my football career, despite the press conferences we were sometimes forced to attend. I usually just let the other guys talk while I stood there looking intimidating. Reporters were surprisingly unwilling to approach a human wall with a scowl.

Craig sipped his drink, probably expensive whiskey, and appeared pleased with himself. I did my duty and asked Allen about his work, sounding appropriately impressed with the medical jargon he spewed off. After a few minutes, someone else called Allen away, and we were finally left alone with Craig at the edge of the crowd.

Before he could show me off to anyone else, I stepped into his line of sight, blocking his view of the room. “We need to talk.”

Craig stilled, and he frowned with a pinched expression. “What’s this about, Noah?”

“I got this in the mail today.” I pulled the crumpled letter from my pocket and held it up.

Craig snatched it from me and gripped it with two fingers as if the paper would contaminate him. “What’s this—”

I could see the moment he realized it was from my dad. His head snapped up, and he scanned the immediate area. I thought for a second he might tear the page to shreds, but instead, he carefully folded the letter and handed it back to me.

“You should throw his number away and forget he ever contacted you.”

My brows rose, and I ignored his comment. “Did you know he was out?”

Craig hesitated. “Yes, but I didn’t know he was living near you. He hasn’t kept in regular contact. It’s for the best if you don’t get attached. Give it time and he’ll be right back inside. It’s who he is now.”

“Why wouldn’t he have known where I was until the article?”

---