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“Did you ever want to go pro?” she asked.
“That’s the dream, isn’t it?” I asked. “But I was never talented enough to play at the professional level. Owning a team is something I can do, regardless of my age or physical ability. Because my body certainly can’t perform at the same level it used to.”
“Maybe not on the field, but I’m sure it’s more than capable,” she said, and I wondered if I’d imagined the way she’d looked at me. With lust and heat and a question in her eyes.
I was probably wishing for something that wasn’t there. It was late, and she was my employee. Not to mention, over twenty years younger than me. And my son’s ex. I couldn’t think of someone more off-limits.
CHAPTERFIVE
“So did you meet the homeowner yet?” Emmy asked. We’d just finished yoga and were headed to our favorite juice bar.
“Yep,” I said as we rounded the corner.
“And…”
“I thought he was a burglar.”
Her eyes went wide. “You’re kidding.”
I shook my head. “Nope. Called the police and everything.”
“Holy shit. Did you get fired?”
I laughed. “No. It gets even crazier.”
“Crazier how?” she asked, gracefully dodging a French bulldog as we walked down the sidewalk.
“You’re never going to believe who owns the house,” I said. I was still trying to wrap my head around it myself, and I’d had a week to get used to the idea of Knox being the owner.
“Let me guess.” She tapped a finger to her lips. “Taylor Swift?”
“No, but that would be amazing.”
“Right? Ugh.” Her shoulders slumped. “I guess I should’ve known that wasn’t the answer, considering all the men’s clothes in the closet.”
“Mm-hmm.” I pressed my lips together to keep myself from blurting the truth.
“Ryan Reynolds.”
I laughed. “Wrong again. Ryan has a wife and kids.”
“Oh yeah. So…the owner is single?”
I considered it a moment. “I think so.”
“Hot?”
Yes.But I couldn’t admit that, so instead, I said, “He’s my boss, remember?”
“The two don’t have to be mutually exclusive.”
“Trust me. In this case, they do.”
She arched an eyebrow. “So, who is he? Someone famous? I’m dying here.”
I was tempted to draw it out even more just to mess with her, but I couldn’t wait to see Emmy’s expression when I told her. “Knox Crawford.”
“Knox Crawford?” She said his name slowly, emphasizing every single syllable as her eyes widened. “Owner of the LA Leatherbacks. One of the heirs to the Huxley Hotel fortune. Philanthropist. A man who somehow manages to get hotter every year.”
