Page 64 of Blitzing Emily

“Everything will be fine. I’m right here.”

“I know you are.” She rested her head against his shoulder, and pulled in a long breath. “I’m right here, too.”

He chuckled. “Protecting me from the big, mean parents, are you?” Emily concentrated on the warm, solid man in her embrace. “You’ll kiss it and make it better.”

She couldn’t stop the snort she made. He grinned again. “I know you want to see your mama and daddy. Now, give me a kiss.”

She reached up to kiss him. His mouth was gentle on hers. He kissed the corner of her lips, and she smiled against his mouth. “Now, that’s what I want to see. Let’s go.”

It occurred to her that they were co-conspirators, instead of two people tied together by fine jewelry and career aspirations. The feeling of being a team happened slowly over the time they were together. She couldn’t imagine facing most things now without him.

He reached into the backseat, grabbing the bouquet of flowers and a bottle of wine he’d stopped on the way for. He took her hand as they walked up the steps to the front door.

“Mom?” Emily called out as she crossed the threshold.

“Smells good.” Brandon said.

Emily’s mother emerged from the kitchen with a smile that didn’t meet her eyes.

“You must be Mrs. Hamilton,” Brandon said, and extended his hand. “I’m Brandon McKenna. It’s great to meet you. Emily’s told me so much about you.”

“Hello, Brandon. It’s nice to meet you, too,” her mother told him. Brandon presented her with the bouquet of flowers. “Thank you. They’re lovely. I’d better get these in water.” She turned to vanish into the kitchen again.

“My dad will be in the family room,” Emily said.

Her father was half-asleep in his chair. He didn’t live in her house anymore, but her mother made sure there was a recliner for him in the family room. He used it when he came for Sunday dinners. The Mariners game was on TV.

“Dad?”

He sat up with a “Hmph.” He didn’t look especially happy, either.

“This is Brandon. Brandon, this is my dad, Mark Hamilton.” Her father got to his feet and shook Brandon’s hand.

Emily kissed her dad. His returned kiss was less than attentive. He glared at Brandon, who handed him the bottle of wine.

“Mr. Hamilton, I brought this along. I thought maybe you and Mrs. Hamilton would like some wine with dinner.”

“I’ll ask her.” Mark’s voice was gruff. “Sit down.”

Brandon and Emily moved to the love seat across from his recliner. Her father set the bottle on the coffee table, and sat back in the chair.

“So, Brandon, Emily tells us that you play for the Sharks.”

“Yes, sir, I do.”

“How long have you been in the NFL?”

“This will be my thirteenth season.”

“You’ve always played with the Sharks?” As a sports fan, Mark Hamilton would know the answer to his questions. Emily wished she knew why he was asking them.

“Yes. Yes, I have.”

“Do you have plans for what you’ll do when you decide to retire from professional football?”

Brandon sat forward, and rested his forearms on his thighs. “I’ve spent a lot of time over the past three off-seasons working on my future. I initially thought I’d like to go into coaching, but I am interested in having a wife and a family. The work hours of most coaches aren’t compatible with family life.”

Mark’s eyebrows shot up.

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