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Olivia tilts her head up, her pale blonde ponytail falling down over her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Griffin, I know my injury really threw a wrench in the plan to get out of here today. I feel awful that you aren’t out there helping others who need it more.”
My jaw clenches at hearing my pixie girl be so hard on herself, as if she’s ruined our lives by falling and hurting her ankle. Thank fuck, Griff hears it, too, and responds the right way.
He drops down into a crouch beside her and takes her hand in his much larger ones. “Liv, no. Don’t do that. Don’t beat yourself up for an accident like this. Besides, being here, helping you, is literally our job.”
Oh damn. He didn’t just say that. I turn my head to hide my wince.
“Right. Your job.” Olivia’s voice is flat. I turn back to see Griffin’s eyes widen as he also realizes how that sounds.
“But you’re more than a job,” he says in a rush. Then, to my surprise, he lifts her hand, still held in his, to his mouth and presses a kiss to her knuckles. “You’re so much more than that.”
Her full lips part slightly. “Oh.”
Taking a chance, I rest my hand on her uninjured leg and squeeze it gently. “We want to take care of you, Pixie. Can you let us do that?”
Her beautiful blue eyes bounce from Griff to me, then back and forth again as she bites on her lower lip. Finally, she swallows and nods.
“Good. So, we’ll save the whiskey and cards for later.” I grin widely. “If you had to be an inanimate object for a day, what would you be and why?”
“Wh-what?” Olivia splutters, looking at me with such confusion, I can’t stop from laughing.
“You heard me. I would be a mirror, so I could see everything. Everyone checking their teeth for spinach, adjusting their dicks, or checking their outfits. It would be people watching on steroids.”
Her mouth falls open, then shuts again as she shakes her head.
“Just go with it,” Griff rumbles, straightening and going to get a chair from the table. He sits down on it backward and drapes his arms over the back. “He loves asking these weird questions when we’re stuck on the bus traveling for away games.”
I point a finger at him. “You love my random questions.”
“Sometimes,” he admits with a smirk. “Then at other times, they’re too weird.”
I turn back to Olivia. “So? Inanimate object?”
She taps her lips with her finger as she thinks. “I guess it would be too cliché to say a puzzle. I guess I’d want to be a blanket. Soft and cozy.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to drop a flirty innuendo, but I restrain myself.
To my surprise, she flips things around on us with the next thing out of her mouth. “If baseball didn’t exist, what sport would you play?”
“Golf, against my better judgment,” Griff replies. “I hate it, but I learned how as a kid. My father said it was the gentleman’s sport, and I needed to know how to play.” He grimaces, the way he always does when he talks about the asshole known as his father.
“I don’t think I’d play anything,” I answer quickly to move the conversation away from that subject. “It’s baseball or nothing.”
“Really?” Olivia asks. “Not hockey or football?”
“I can’t skate, and do you have any idea how high the concussion rate is for football players?” I say with a shake of my head.
“You can’t skate?”
“Nope. I know, take away my Canadian card. But I never wanted to learn. Racing around on two knives on ice? No thanks.”
“What about you, what sports or activities do you like to do?” I ask. Then, before I can think twice, my gaze drops down to her strong thighs. “Obviously, you like to stay strong and active.”
Olivia lets out a self-deprecating laugh. “Yeah, but sports are not my thing. I’ve got zero hand-eye coordination. I love hiking, rock climbing, and swimming, that kind of thing. But do not give me a ball and expect it to go anywhere you want it to go.”
“Y’know,” I say, leaning in slightly. “We could help you with that.”
She rolls her eyes and giggles again. “You think you could but trust me. It’s hopeless.”
