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“Yep. The editor is amazing and really positive. They sent someone out to shoot photos of Breen and sent them to me for approval. They just really include the journalist in the process, and that isn’t always the case.”
“And where are they located?”
She rolled her eyes and then smirked. “Funny you should ask. They’re located in the Big Apple.”
“Ah, New York City, huh?”
She chuckled. “Don’t pretend you didn’t know that. But they focus primarily on hockey, and I don’t want to be stuck writing about one sport. I mean, if I was going to do that, it would be football. But everyone wants this story, and it makes me a more desirable package. So, hopefully, the three magazines I’m talking to make me a fair offer.”
“Oh, you’re desirable all right. And it has nothing to do with me.” My hand found her thigh beneath the table.
“Hands to yourself, Captain.” She raised a brow. “I won’t be sad when we can be out in the open with our relationship. Although, I’m guessing everyone in Cottonwood Cove suspects something’s going on with all the time we spend together.”
“Good. I want every fucker out there to know that you’re mine.”
“So possessive,” she purred.
Mrs. Runither approached the table and set our food down, and the way she paused and stared at me as she slowly licked her plump bottom lip made me shiver with discomfort. She chuckled and walked away.
“You are so dramatic.” Brinkley swatted my shoulder, and then we both reached for our forks.
“What? She freaks me out. I can tell she’s visualizing me naked while she’s licking those sausage lips.”
Brinkley laughed, and we spent the next hour talking about all her options. All the places that she’d applied to.
I didn’t like that the future was unknown at this point. I knew where I was going, and I wanted to know where she was going.
She was currently writing the story about me since we’d finished the interview. Each night, she let me read what she’d written, and her talent was blatantly apparent in her words.
When we pulled up to my house, there was a dude standing near the front door with an enormous floral arrangement.
“Oh, that’s Jeremy Farmer. I used to babysit Jeremy when I was in high school.” She chuckled as we both got out of the car.
“Brinkley, hey,” the dude said as his gaze landed on me. “Oh, wow. It’s really you. Everyone has seen you around town, but this is my first time. I’m a big fan.”
“Nice to meet you, Jeremy.” I extended my hand before taking the flowers from him.
“I, er, took them to your house, but then Janine told me to bring them over here, because you two work together a lot, I guess. We didn’t want to leave them outside.”
“Janine owns Cottonwood Blooms,” Brinkley said to me because I didn’t have a clue who she was. “Thanks for hunting me down, Jeremy.”
Only in a small town do the delivery people forgo the address and just go find you themselves.
Brinkley gave him a quick hug, and we said goodbye, but the kid was still standing there, gaping at me.
“If you want to bring your jersey over later, I can have him sign it for you,” she said as she waved, and he did a strange little jump and fist-pumped the sky.
“Thanks so much. I’ll be back later today.”
I laughed as we pushed inside because I was suddenly curious as fuck who was sending my girl flowers. I assumed it wasSports-X. I set the arrangement on the kitchen counter, and she plucked the card out of the flowers, and her smile dropped the slightest bit. Most people wouldn’t have noticed, but I knew this woman well. She either didn’t like who they were from, or she knew that I wouldn’t like it.
I snatched the card from her and read it.
Brinkley, there’s no one I’d rather have do me justice than you. I’ll be in town this weekend, and I’d like to see you. XO, Breen
I tossed the card onto the counter and stared at her. “Why the fuck is Breen Lockhart sending you flowers, and why does he want to see you?”
“I’m assuming the flowers are because the article went live today. It was probably just a friendly gesture. And I had no idea he was coming into town this weekend, but we’re friends, so it’s not odd to reach out.”
