He grins, awarding me with only half his dimples. “So, will you come to my granny’s birthday party?”
“When is it?”
“Next Saturday after walkthroughs. My dad’s college game is at noon so it worked out perfectly.”
“I can, but won’t it be awkward?”
“No, I plan on telling them about us, tonight.”
I choke on a bite. “Tonight? But this is just our first date and you’re my client.”
“They don’t care. Sutton’s Greyson’s boss but they make it work. Noelle married Greyson’s best friend who’s fourteen years older. They just want me to be happy, and you make me happy.”
My heart races because I make him happy.
“Okay, I’m supposed to go to margarita night with them this week. But Parker, what you said about being compared to your brothers. That was canned. You need to be you and not worry about being MVP. You’re playing football for quite a bit of money and you’re with your family every day. I’m just saying you’re luckier than most.”
I can never have what Parker has. My mom stood by my dad even though she sent me to America. I always wondered if she sent me to America to save me or to save their reputations.
Sitting back, he seems to mull it over. Minutes pass before he says, “My family is your family. Once you’re in… we don’t let go. For any reason.”
I notice he ignores my comment about comparing himself to his brothers.
“This is moving fast for a first date,” Iwink.
“When I know what I want, I go after it.” His eyes lift to mine.
We finish our breakfast and he leaves Becky a five-hundred-dollar tip and writes on the ticket.
Call the Armadillos and ask for Marlon tomorrow. I may have a version of your dream job available.
“What do you have in mind for Becky?”
“The Armadillos make travel arrangements all year round. I may have some pull.” He winks.
“You may?” I lift a brow as we get into the car. “I think Sutton would do anything you ask.”
“Yeah, that’s why I’m going to go to her office when we’re done.”
We drive down several country roads, and he turns into a ranch. “This is my parent’s land. Well, my dad’s. I thought since we have time, we could talk. Get to know each other better.”
A lump sticks in my throat. What does he want to know? I’mnotan open book.
We walk down a trail, and a blue lake opens up and we settle on the grassy bank. He takes my hand in his.
He asks a bunch of questions, but when he says, “I had spinal meningitis when I was young. Granny said my fever was one-hundred-four degrees. She threw us young kids in the car. I don’t really remember anything except for when Dad or Granny tells the story.”
My mouth drops open. “How young?”
“Seven.”
“You’re not going to believe this, but I had it too when I was eight.”
Our eyes lock. “What are the odds?”
I murmur, “Apparently not zero.”
Something shifts again. But deeper this time. More grounded.
