Page 88 of Hard to Score

“She definitely is.”

“Thank you for meeting me for a drink. I know you’re crazy busy and time is sparse, but I’m glad to get to see you, even if it’s only for a few minutes.”

“I’m glad you called. It was—”

“Don’t look now,” Jules says, prompting me to look in the direction her eyes are focused.

“What?”

“Don’t look yet. Two o’clock. A drop-dead gorgeous guy.”

“You told me not to look and then gave me directions where to look.” I laugh and wave my hand at her. “You’re married now.”

“Not for me! Jesus, seriously?” She laughs. “I’m talking about for you.”

I level her with a glare. “Just because you are deliriously happy, doesn’t mean you get to try and fix me up.”

“Oh my. Is there nothing sexier than a super-hot guy who’s a dad? And he’s buying flowers. Probably for his wife. What a good man to show his daughter how she should be treated.”

“Mm-hmm,” I murmur, more than aware of how Jules takes one tiny thing and runs with it.

And running with it, she is.

“I mean look at his biceps flex when he picks up his little girl. Could you imagine arms like that framing you as he hovers over you and—”

“TMI and especially from a married woman.”

“Honey, I’m picturing Archer over me, not him, but uh—you should picture it because damn. Those arms. That ass. That height.” She lets out a long, low whistle.

“Whatever.”

“I mean why does that make my uterus clench as if it’s going to beg him to make it full?”

“Down, girl.” I laugh but turn to look at the object of her attention more to stop her from going on than anything.

But my laugh fades into confusion when the man and little girl turn to face our way.

When I see his face.

When I realize—

“Isn’t that Drew Bowman?” she asks.

So many thoughts cloud my head. All I can do is nod as I take in the little girl in his arms with the same eyes and coloring.

We’re having a long practice tonight. I’ll call you later.

His words from earlier run through my head as confusion grows. And anger.

“Drew!” She waves to him and his head snaps our way.

He freezes for a second—his eyes locking with mine as his expression falls.

Yes. You’ve been caught in a lie.

He recovers quickly but not fast enough. I catch his shock at seeing me there.

“If I were single I’d climb that man like a tree, Brexton,” she murmurs as he makes his way over to us.