Page 39 of Match Penalty

"JP! Didn't expect to see you today." Pete shifts his vision to see me. We’ve met several times whenever he has a meeting with Penelope. "Cammy, what a pleasant surprise. You’re both here together?” he asks. “Is something wrong at the stadium?”

JP waves off Pete’s concern. "No, no, nothing like that. Actually, Pete, we're here about the charity auction. We’re looking for vendors who would be willing to donate something for the auction. Would you be interested in donating a piece?"

Pete's eyes sparkle. "For the Kids with Cancer Foundation? Absolutely, it’s a great cause—I’d do anything to help Briggs and Autumn and all of those families,” he says, then thinks for a second. “I've got something special in mind. Been working on a design—a phoenix rising. Seems fitting, don't you think?"

As they discuss details, I catch JP watching me from the corner of his eye as I find a small bird carving, an intricately hand painted, little finch with warm colored cheeks.

It fits so perfectly in my hands, and the warmth of the wood heating in my hands brings the bird practically to life.

“Thanks for your time, Pete. We’re going to walk around for a bit, and I need to get Cammy some lunch. But if you don’t mind bringing the item up to Penelope’s office when you have it ready, that would be great.”

We say our goodbyes and start to casually walk around, both pointing out different vendors or things we notice that neither of us have seen before.

"Hungry?" JP asks.

"Starving," I admit. The latte and sandwich were a good start on the way over, but now I need lunch.

He grins. "Good thing I know just the place. But first—" He stops at a popcorn vendor and asks what flavor I want. I pick BBQ, while he picks dill pickle, ordering a bag for each of us.

I scratch my nose. “Dill pickle?

“You’re going to wish you ordered it,” he warns.

"I don’t think so," I say quickly.

His laugh is rich and warm. The vendor hands JP the bags, and he passes me the BBQ, still hot and perfectly salted.

We walk through the market, and I find myself relaxing despite my best intentions. JP points out his favorite spots, tells stories about the vendors he's met, and somehow makes me laugh more than I have in weeks.

I reach over and steal a piece of his popcorn.

"Thought you didn't want to try mine," he teases, but tilts the bag toward me so I’ll take more.

"Yours is better," I say, grabbing another handful, ignoring the fact that he was right.

"Tu es impossible," he murmurs, smiling fondly.

"What does that mean?"

"That you're impossible," he translates. "But in a good way."

I roll my eyes, but I'm fighting back a smile. "So, is this your thing? Do you have a feeder kink that I should know about?"

JP’s laugh rumbles through him, warm and unrestrained, before he shakes his head, still grinning. “A feeder kink?”

As if a jock who’s spent his entire life in a locker room doesn’t know what a feeder kink is, he just wants to hear me explain it.

I lift a shoulder, feigning innocence. “Yeah. You know… do you become aroused by feeding your dates?”

He lifts an eyebrow at me like I’ve lost my mind, but the slow spread of his grin says he’s intrigued.

I sigh, giving in. “First, the Chinese takeout at Cooper’s, then food at my apartment last week, then Serendipity’s this morning… and now this?” I gesture toward the popcorn between us. “You’re feeding me.”

His smirk turns wicked, his voice dropping low. “No, I don’t have a feeder kink, but I'll admit that I enjoy feedingyou. You’re nicer to me when you’re not hangry,” He leans in slightly, eyes locked on mine, amusement flickering beneath something darker. Deeper. “Besides, this is a date, Cammy. I said dinner, which implies food.” His fingers graze mine as he takes a piece of popcorn and pops it into his mouth, chewing slowly, deliberately. “But if you must know…” His gaze dips, trailing over me in a way that sends heat straight to my core.

“Anything that has to do with you is a turn-on.”

The words hit me like a physical force, and I have to avert my gaze. Because for a moment, I almost believe him.

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