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To him. This upset him far more than it should have.
His phone rang after he’d parked the BMW and headed into the house. Juggling his keys in one hand, he didn’t check the caller ID before he thumbed the answer switch.
“Reynaud.” He didn’t need team problems. He had enough personal ones, since Addy was giving him the runaround.
“Hey, bro.” The voice of his youngest brother came through the airwaves. “Congrats on the win.”
“You, too, Jean-Pierre. I saw you put up some hellacious stats today.” Dempsey hadn’t been able to watch any film highlights on the way home, since he’d had to drive himself, but he’d checked for updates on the other one o’clock games before he left the stadium.
“Perfect football weather in New York. The ball sailed right where I wanted it to all day.” The youngest Reynaud was the starting quarterback for the New York Gladiators and currently the only member of the family who wasn’t a part of the Hurricanes organization. “Tomorrow’s practice is light. I could head down there afterward if you think we need a powwow about Gramps.”
“That’d be good. I think it’s going to take all four of us to figure out how to approach him.” Dempsey stepped inside the house, which was too quiet without Adelaide there.
Already, all his best memories in this place were with her.
Undressing her in the foyer. Chasing her out to the pool. Carrying her up to his bed.
“He’s getting worse?” Jean-Pierre asked, pulling Dempsey’s thoughts away from Addy.
“He thought I was Dad at a fund-raiser event the other night. Implied I needed to be careful my wife didn’t find out about the woman on my arm.”
On the other end, Jean-Pierre let loose a string of soft curses.
“That sucks,” he finally said, summing it up well. “I’ll be off the practice field by noon. I can probably be at the house by four.” A perk of being in New York was that private planes were plentiful. Jean-Pierre didn’t come home often, but he could make the trip in a hurry when he needed to.
“Sounds good. We practice at noon, but I’ll make sure we finish up in time. See you then.” Disconnecting the call, he knew he’d have to go in early to meet with his assistant coaches and watch game film.
Hell, he’d be watching game film tonight, too. But first, he would order dinner for him and Adelaide. Do something nice for her to make up for all the things he’d said wrong over breakfast. Maybe then he would be able to confront her about that trip to see a potential manufacturing facility. The capital investment for a start-up business would compromise her operating costs. She had to know that.
Her role with the Hurricanes aside, it was too soon for her business to launch in that kind of direction. Small growth was wiser. Subcontracting the manufacturing would give her more cushion for expenditures. As much as he understood she didn’t want him interfering with this company she wanted to build, he simply couldn’t let her fail.
Ah, hell, who was he kidding? He might be a selfish bastard, but he couldn’t ignore the truth.
He didn’t want her to leave.
Ten
“No one could hold a grudge after that dinner.” Adelaide swirled a strawberry through a warm chocolate sauce served in a melting pot over an open flame. “I might have to pick fights with you more often if this is the aftermath.”
Dempsey had ordered an exquisite meal to be catered for them, and considering it must have been on short notice, the food was outrageously delicious. Her scallops had been prepared in a kind of sauce that took them from good to transcendent. The grilled vegetables were hot and tender, perfectly seasoned. But the dessert of exotic fondues was inspired.
She couldn’t get enough of the chocolate sauce with a hint of raspberry liqueur.
“Are you sure?” Dempsey asked her, reaching under the mammoth dining room table to skim a touch along her knee. “I know you were upset this morning.”
They were seated diagonally from one another—he was at the head of the table and she was to his right. The table was a chunky dark wood handcrafted in Mexico, the coarse finish making the piece all the more masculine and right for the house. Adelaide liked all the decor even if—in her fanciful imaginings—she pictured what she would do if she lived here. She’d put a vase of birds of paradise on the table, for one thing. Bright splashes of color to warm up this cool, controlled world.
