“Ouch.”
“You started it,” he says, then snaps a shot of me at the window.
“Perfect. You were—shockingly—glowering. So I’m sure other teams will cower when they see this.”
I roll my eyes, then lift the cup to drink. It’s exposure therapy being here. But then Mia laughs from the balcony, cocoa in hand, and something in my chest shifts. Softens the slightest bit. A dad’s got to do what a dad’s got to do.
As a server swings by to drop off my sandwich, telling me he’ll take one upstairs to Mia, Jason posts the pic on my social, then checks his phone. “Natalie is finishing shopping—she just texted. So I should get out of here,” he says, then pushes back in his chair. “Oh, one more thing. Sounds like the town wants some famous people to coach the teams this year for the Christmas competition. To make it extra special. The mayor asked for you.”
I spit out my mocha. “You’re pulling my leg.”
Jason looks down at the lower half of my body. “Seems I’m not.”
“Bro.”
“C’mon, you said you’d do PR. It’s a good thing.”
“Why me? How about Asher or Wesley or Tyler or fucking anyone but me?” I say, then bite into my sandwich.
He sighs, long and too satisfied. “Yeah, but see, there’s that little thing you have that they don’t.”
“What? A bad attitude? There can’t be a worse pick than me.”
“The cabin connection. It practically makes you a local. Small-town charm. Grumpy hometown hero. PR gold.”
I groan. “You’re pitching me like a Webflix holiday movie.”
“People love those,” he says with a slick smile. “And the team will love how much you’re helping them launch the new minor-league affiliate.”
“You’re killing me with your ambushes,” I say, but I can’t protest—fact is, he’s right. “I can’t believe I let you represent me.”
“What I hear is: thanks for always looking out for me to ensure I don’t ruin a great career with a bad attitude.”
I sigh. “You’re like a dog with selective hearing.”
Wanda perks her head up at that, her big ears rising. “Just like you, girl,” I tell her. I give Jason a look. “Why are you doing this?”
As I take another bite, he holds his hands out wide. “Don’t shoot the messenger. Besides, it’ll work out. The first meeting is tomorrow late morning. And you can do your dating lesson with Isla after. See? I’m helpful. Oh, speaking of Isla,” he says, shaking his head, clearly amused. “Get this. I just heard from my mom. She’s setting my sister up with?—”
I see red. Before he can even finish, it’s billowing out my eyes, pouring out of my ears. “With who?” I bite out angrily, cutting him off, slamming my sandwich down.
“She wants to set her up with Oliver Abernathy.”
No idea who that is, but I hate him on principle. “Who is this asshole?”
“Whoa. Didn’t think you’d have such strong feelings about Isla dating,” he says, giving me awhat giveslook.
Fuck. I can’t let on I’m a dragon, breathing fire at the mere thought of Isla seeing someone. “Just being protective of your sister, that’s all,” I say in a scramble, trying to make light of my reaction.
Jason arches a brow. “Yeah?”
“Of course. She’s one of the most thoughtful, caring, helpful people there is, and I don’t want some prick taking advantage of her.” There, that’s true. Completely true.
“Fine. I’ll agree with you there. Anyway, this guy’s an art history professor. Some smart British guy who loves Christmas evidently.”
My jaw clenches. He sounds horrifyingly perfect for Isla. I can barely take it. “He’d better be good to her,” I manage to grit out, even though my mind is spinning like a washing machine thrown off-balance.
Jason claps me on the back. “Just don’t take up all her time. It’d be good to see her dating again too,” he says, then nods to the balcony to gather his kids.
