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“Morning.” He strode past her desk to stand by the window overlooking the training field, where a few players were loosening up even though official warm-ups wouldn’t start for another hour or more. “I didn’t expect you today.”
She’d worked overtime this week, as she did most weeks. But he seemed to understand her desire to devote some hours to her own business because he’d told her last night that she should take the day off.
She watched him now, struck anew by his masculine appeal. After all the years she’d known him, she would have hoped to have been used to him. Some days, when they were embroiled in work, she managed to forget that he was an incredibly magnetic male. Other times, the raw virility of him made her a little light-headed, like now.
“You seemed so distracted last night, I wasn’t even sure you would remember saying that.” She handed him his coffee and joined him at the window. She tracked the movements of two new receivers racing each other down the field.
Every day she encountered virile, handsome men. Men that other women swooned over on game days. What was it about Dempsey alone that drew her eye?
“I meant it.” He sipped his coffee and stared at her until her skin grew warm with awareness. “I’m worried about Leon.”
That shifted her focus in a hurry. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d shared a personal concern with her.
“He thought he was speaking to Theo last night when he told you to be careful your wife didn’t find out about me.” She knew that Theo Reynaud had a notorious reputation, dating back to his years as a college athlete and straight through his time as a pro.
His wife had left him shortly after Dempsey—the son of an extramarital affair—arrived in her household. She’d told Dempsey that he was her “last straw.”
“Right.” He shook his head. “We’ve known that he has episodes of confusion, but he claimed he saw a doctor who diagnosed it as a thyroid problem. I looked it up, because I wasn’t sure if we could believe him, but that is a possibility.”
“So either he’s not taking the right medicines for it—”
“Or he’s been BSing us the whole time and he’s never seen a doctor. He’s as hardheaded as they come and he doesn’t put much faith in the health-care system.”
“He is always telling the trainers not to coddle the players.” She’d heard him bark at the medical staff often enough, imparting a “tough it out” mentality.
“Exactly.” Dempsey frowned. “I asked Jean-Pierre to try to spend some time down here this season so we can present a united front to get Leon evaluated and, if necessary, into more aggressive medical treatment.”
Reaching toward her desk, she pulled the box of scones closer.
“Jean-Pierre will have to come home for Gervais’s wedding.” She’d tracked the wedding talk on social media as part of her duties managing Dempsey’s profile pages online. With the Hurricanes’ owner marrying a foreign princess, the topic had more traction than any other team news.
The fact that there’d been no official announcement only fueled the rumor mill until speculating on the whens and hows of the nuptials filled page after page of gossip blogs.
“That’s still six weeks away.” He relinquished his coffee to grab a couple of paper plates from her stash near the minifridge. “I think we need to act soon. I don’t want something to happen to Leon because we’re all too damn busy to pay attention to the warning signs. We owe him better, even though he’s not going to be happy about us strong-arming him.”
“Will you invite your dad to be there?” She took a plate and a scone and passed him the box. “Or any of the rest of the family?”
Leon had another son who lived in Texas, and one out on the West Coast, and there were cousins as well, but the relationships had been strained for a long time.
“No. If Theo happens to be in town, fine.” His jaw flexed at the mention of his father, a tic shared by all of Theo’s sons. “But I’m not going to seek him out for a family event that will be stressful enough as it is.” He set aside his breakfast.
Then slipped hers from her hands and set it on the desk.
“Is that a hint?” she asked, her gaze following the bit of raspberry heaven now out of reach. “Am I indulging my sweet tooth too often?”
“Of course not. I wanted to apologize for last night.” He took her hand between his and gave her his undivided attention.
