“That is so sweet of you, Greer,” Graham says. “Thinking of Simon.”
I clear my throat and glare over my shoulder at my friend.
“Is it chocolate peanut butter?” I ask, returning my attention to Greer.
She nods.
“Perfect.” I grab the drink and take a sip.
“Dad, can I have a couple friends sleep over after my birthday party next weekend?”
“That sounds fine to me.”
“Your birthday is next week?” Greer asks. “I had no idea.”
She ruffles Grey’s hair, and he swats her hand away, laughing.
“Is there anything I can help with?” she asks me.
“Actually, yes. He wanted to invite all his football camp friends, so I sent a message through this app we all use. Some of the parents commented that they’d be staying, so I think I need to double the order I originally planned and—” Greer’s eyes widen.“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Ummm, you said football camp parents are going to come?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, well, funny story about that. Impeccable timing too.” She looks over my shoulder and I follow her gaze to see everyone invested in her story. I could scold them, but I just shake my head.
“Can we talk in private?” she asks a little quieter.
I nod, knowing the guys will eavesdrop if we stay here. I move her to the back room where our office is. I know it seems weird that we opened a working space with an office in the back, but some days, usually at the beginning of the week, this place is packed shoulder to shoulder. I need to know I can come here and have a place to write. So we created the office. Funny enough, I think the whole group is glad we have it.
We step inside. “Should I close the door?”
“No. Sure. Maybe.” She fidgets with her purse.
I choose to close the door.
I’ve been alone with a woman many times in my life, but right now, all my senses are on overdrive thinking about how I’m alone with Greer. Again. My heart beat picks up, and my breathing feels uneven.
Hell, I don’t know how to control myself when I’m around her. I want her. That much is clear.
I just can’t have her. My conversation with the guys is evidence enough. She wants to meet someone and get married. I don’t want to date anyone period. I may as well have a red flag attached to my forehead for her.
But my body remembers everything about last night. Despite knowing why this shouldn’t happen, I want it to.
I move toward her.
“The thing is,” she says, looking me right in the eyes, “the football camp moms might all think that you and I are dating.”
I stop.
“What?”
“I know. Iknow.” She begins to pace. “It all happened so fast.”
I almost laugh—oh, the irony! —but Greer looks so distraught, I pull it together.
“Why do they think we’re dating, Greer?”
