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#BRYNN
The moment I saw Jace behind me on the field, I was floored. I’m not sure what surprised me more: the fact that he’s here at all, or the fact that he listened, really listened, when I told him what organization I volunteered for enough to recognize the name.
I watch as Jace gives instructions on the proper form for throwing the football, and my thoughts drift back to his answer about whether he has a girlfriend.
I am seeing someone, and she’s pretty special.
Until now, I wasn’t sure if Jace considered us anything at all, but clearly, he does. Though his answer leaves room for interpretation, I think it’s safe to say, at the very least, he thinks we’re dating. And the fact that Jace Taggart is acknowledging he’s seeing someone at all, let alone specifying that she’s special,is staggering. Even more mind-blowing is the thought that his “someone” isme.
Jace spends time with each child, correcting their posture and giving them attention, explaining the right placement of their fingers on the ball. How to throw a spiral. How to tuck and run. He also goes over the basics of the rules. By the time he’s done, my crush on him—yes, I think it’s safe to say I have a huge crush—has turned to full-blown infatuation.
He leans down and helps Lynn, the little brunette from earlier who seems to share my taste in boys, and helps her place her tiny fingers over the laces of the football, properly positioning her hand.
As it turns out, Jace Taggart is ridiculously good with kids. It’s newfound knowledge about him I wish I didn’t know because it makes my heart grow three sizes. If it swells any more, it won’t fit inside my chest.
I don’t know what I expected. Maybe a male version of Charlotte? For him to ignore their pleas for help, cringe and turn away from their dirty hands, and snotty noses? Snap at them for asking the same questions for the millionth time? Instead, he’s beyond patient. He laughs and jokes, accepts a pass from Coop, only to have three children tackle each of his legs, clinging to him like barnacles on the side of a ship as he runs, somehow still managing to pass the goal line.
After some time, I dismiss the kids so they can get a drink before we play the big game and divide up into teams. Jace saunters over to me, a cocky smirk on his ridiculously handsome face. It’s unfair for someone to be graced with such immaculate bone structure. The perfect slope of his patrician nose, the square line of his jaw, and cheekbones chiseled from stone. My heart can’t take so much perfection.
I try not to look at him as he settles in beside me, instead focusing on the kids swarming the Gatorade table, because it’sless scary than this growing feeling inside I’m afraid to fully acknowledge.
He yanks the hem of his shirt up to wipe the sweat from his brow, and my willpower only holds for a second before I glance to his toned abdomen, and the delicious V of his Adonis belt dipping below the waistline of his shorts.
I swallow and quickly realize he’s caught me staring. “Like something you see, Cupcake?” He winks, and butterflies erupt inside my chest.
I swallow with a soft chuckle, further cursing his cutoff T-shirt when he rakes a hand through his thick hair and his biceps flex.
I swear he’s doing it on purpose.
I fan my face, which I’m sure is so red Crayola could name a crayon after me, and he laughs. “Can I ask you something?” I ask, unable to help myself.
His gaze drops to my mouth, and my heart skips a beat before he lifts his chin, eyes returning to mine. “Shoot.”
“You know the night I came home to find you with the girl on the couch? Teresa?”
He nods slowly now, his gaze wary.
“Why didn’t you tell me you sent her home right before I barged through the door?”
His eyes search mine, a crease forming between his brow. “How did you . . .?” He clears his throat. “I figured you wouldn’t believe me.”
Maybe I wouldn’t have.
I lean closer, tracing circles over the back of his hand, unable to meet his eyes. “And did you tell her to leave because of me or was there another reason?” I ask.
I don’t know why I need confirmation from him, but I do.
“Brynn,” his tone is firm as he adds, “look at me.”
I bite my lip, almost afraid of his answer. Afraid he’ll say no because I want him to say yes. I already feel so much more than I probably should.
But when his gaze finds mine, his smile turns the blue of his eyes liquid. “I thought I could block you out. That’s why I brought her home in the first place.” He shrugs. “Hell, maybe I even brought her back to the apartment because I wanted to push you away, but it was a mistake. I knew it before we even got there, and I damn well knew once I had her there.”
His throat bobs, and I stare, mesmerized by the movement. “I sent her home because I couldn’t stop thinking about you. The whole night, and the whole time I was kissing her, I thought of you. Iwantedit to be you.”
A shaky breath escapes my parted lips as he leans down, pressing his forehead to mine. “You’ve put a spell on me, Cupcake,” he whispers.
My chest aches with the need to pull him closer. The warmth of his breath fans over my skin as I reach out and fist my hands in his shirt. “Taggart, what are you doing to me?” I ask, a tremble in my voice before I tip my head up to him and take his mouth with mine.
