“Miss Draper,” Tommy practically purred as he pulled out the chair next to her and sat down. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“You knew very well she’d be here, Tommy,” Colin said drolly, but Tommy didn’t even look over at him.
“While I appreciate the input, Colin, I do not believe you are part of this conversation,” he said. “This is between me and Miss Draper.”
“Minnie is fine,” she said, unable to tear her gaze away from his mesmerizing eyes. His smile widened at her permission to use her given name.
"Minnie," he repeated, her name a caress on his tongue. "A lovely name for a lovely lady."
Heat crept up her neck at his bold words. Across the table, Emmaline raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk on her lips.
"I saw you at the match today," Tommy continued, leaning closer. His knee brushed against hers under the table, sending a jolt of heat through the rest of her body. "Did you enjoy the game?"
"It was...illuminating," Minnie replied, trying to keep her wits about her despite his proximity. "Though, as I was just telling the others, not nearly as exciting as some of your past matches against the Athletics."
Tommy chuckled, the sound rich and warm. "So, you’ve been watching us? I'm flattered."
"Don't let it go to your head," she teased. "I merely have an appreciation for the sport."
"Is thatallyou appreciate?" His gaze dipped to her lips for the briefest moment before meeting her eyes again.
Minnie's heart stuttered in her chest. She was used to men attempting to charm her, but something about Tommy Ward set him apart. Perhaps it was the glint of real intelligence behind his flirtations, or the sense that he saw her as more than just a pretty face to woo.
She opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted when the barkeep, Milton, arrived with pints of ale for the table. He sent a serving girl for everyone else, but always served the team personally.
The conversation turned to a lively discussion of the game as the players recounted key moments between sips of their drinks.
But even as Minnie laughed and chatted with the others, she remained acutely aware of Tommy's presence beside her. Every accidental brush of their arms, every heated glance in her direction, sent tingling sensations across her skin.
As the evening wore on and the ale flowed freely, the group began to disperse. Colin and Lily were the first to take their leave, Colin's earlier fall catching up with him. Rhys and Emmaline, wrapped up in each other as always, promised to see Minnie home, but for the moment, they had vacated their places at the larger table to sit in a more private area to the side.
Leaving Minnie and Tommy relatively alone at the table, the din of the pub swirling around them. Minnie knew she ought to make her excuses and head home soon as well but found herself reluctant to bring an end to her time with Tommy, uncertain of when she might see him again.
"What are you thinking in that pretty head of yours?" Tommy asked, his voice low and intimate as he angled his body toward hers.
Minnie met his gaze, emboldened by the ale and the undeniable pull she felt toward him. "I was thinking that you're not at all what I expected, Mr. Ward."
"Please, call me Tommy." His eyes sparkled with mirth. "And what exactly did you expect?"
"I'm not entirely sure," she admitted. "But whatever this is… I think I like it.”
Tommy caught Rhys’s stare from across the tavern. Even though the captain was well occupied with his wife, his warning gaze was clear.
But Tommy didn’t care.
The moment he had seen Minnie, he had abandoned his plan to find someone else to help forget her. For there was no one else anymore.
Just her.
And, miraculously, she seemed equally as interested in him as he was in her.
He leaned in closer, his lips quirking into a roguish grin. "I'm glad to hear it, Minnie. Because I know I like you. Quite a bit, if I'm being honest."
Tommy noticed the catch in her breath at his bold declaration. Her eyes roamed his face as if searching for the truth, and he hoped she could read just how sincere he was.
She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, yes, but most men would say the same. There was more to her, however, more than Tommy had felt toward any other woman. It was that hint of her own mischievousness that spoke to his soul, that prevented him from drawing away, encouraging him to want to know more.
"You barely know me," she pointed out, but the way she bit her lip belied her true thoughts about him.
