I huff out a giggle, placing my free palm into the centre of his chest and giving him a playful shove. “Good luck out there.”
He winks, causing my core to clench. “Thanks, sunshine.”
The first half of the match flies over in the blink of an eye.
Most of the men stay on the pitch, stood in huddles, while May, Lola and I, with baby Charlotte happily babbling away on her mother’s hip, cross the field to grab an ice cream from the idling van.
I catch Blake watching me a handful of times, his eyes narrowing with every lapping lick of my tongue against my ice cream.
“You’re going to be in so much trouble when you get home,” Lola remarks with a giggle, flicking her gaze between Blake and I.
I pop my shoulders while I trace the tip of my tongue around the sugar rim of my ice cream cone.
“I have no clue what you’re on about.”
May and Lola laugh loudly which draws a few stares from the other wives and girlfriends dotted about the pitch, but I pay them no heed.
The sun beats down, browning the tops of my arms slightly and causing a thin layer of sweat to build at the nape of my neck, as the second half of the match begins.
I’m up on my feet and cheering with the girls when Liam, May’s husband, scores a goal for our team, quickly followed by Blake himself.
When the referee eventually blows his whistle, eliciting a sharp sound, to signal the end of the match, I launch myself across the pitch and into Blake’s awaiting arms. He picks me up with ease, allowing me to wrap my legs around his hips, twining my ankles at the base of his spine. I peck him on the lips, before I lay a trail of quick kisses along his sharp jawline, unbothered by the sweat dripping from him.
“I take it you enjoyed watching the match, then?” Blake asks with a grin, gently placing me back onto the grass.
I nod, tucking myself beneath his arm. It’s crazy how normal it feels, us being together.
“What was your favourite part?”
“Oh, that’s easy. Watching you stretch with the team. Or maybe this whole get-up you’ve got going on.” I gesture to his socks, showing off his lean calves, his short shorts which are crawling up his muscular thighs and the thin material of his red shirt, sticking to his abs.
Blake hums happily, smoothing the hair back from my forehead and dropping a kiss there.
“You coming, Millen?!” one of the boys’ shouts, waving the two of us over. Already, I can see a few of the men piling into cars.
“Where are they off to?”
“We usually go to the pub after the match. Win or lose; it’s become a bit of a tradition. But if you want to come with, you can.”
I eye Blake out of the corner. “Do the wives and girlfriends usually go?”
“No, but—”
“It’s okay.” I grin, giving his waist a quick squeeze. “I don’t mind. Seriously. Go have some time with your friends and then come back to my place. I’ve got something in mind I’d like to give you for winning today.”
“Something you’d like to give me, hm? Any hints?”
“It involves me being on my knees.” I smirk. “Or on the bed. I don’t really mind. Winner’s choice.”
“Millen!”
Blake ignores his friend, instead capturing his lips with mine as we stop dead beside the car park. “Winner’s choice, indeed. I won’t be long, okay?”
“Promise?”
“Promise, sunshine.”
Chapter 26
