“The front office hasn’t been able to get a hold of his family.”
Why is that not a surprise?
Rage begins to boil up in my belly but I’m calm when I say, “Have them give me the details and I’ll take care of it.”
Her face softens.
“What?”
“I’m glad he has you, and”—she cups my jaw—“I’m so damned glad that you finally put him out of his misery.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“They were all taking bets on when he’d finally make his move, sis.” She bumps her shoulder against mine. “The only reason Damon’s not actively talking about murder is that he’s had nearly two seasons to get used to it.”
“Seriously?”
She shrugs. “The guys talk.”
I lift my brows accusingly. “You talk.”
“Well, that too.”
I swat at her chest. “I’m going to sic Beth on you.”
“I gave her a wedding during the off-season; Beth loves me right now.”
Damn.
She’s not wrong.
Still, I don’t let my little sister energy wane as we follow the guys outside. “I know she can’t wait for grandbabies,” I drawl. “Maybe I’ll mention how you didn’t drink any wine tonight…”
Joey misses the last step off the porch and I have to wrap my arm around her middle to catch her.
Whoops.
That was bad timing for teasing her about babies—though her pink cheeks are interesting.
“I have an early meeting tomorrow,” she hedges.
“I’m sure you do.” I shrug. “The only question is if Beth will believe that.”
She shoves me. “You’re evil.”
“Damn right, I am.”
“Damon!” she calls. “Get your sister out of here before I push her into a snowbank!”
He just smirks as he strolls back over to her. “Want help?”
“Rude!” I say, lifting my chin and marching to Colt’s car—he was only cleared to drive today and is taking full advantage.
“Want me to push them into a snowbank?” he murmurs, catching me around the middle, his tongue flicking out to caress my earlobe.
“I heard that!” Joey calls. “Remember who makes the drills!”
“I thought Coach Kaitlyn was in charge of the offense,” he calls back.
