Page 26 of Wicked Player

She was talking to a man I didn’t know, but another reporter based on the badge draped around his neck that matched hers.

Her body called to me. Wrapped deliciously in a black dress, one of her arms was completely bare. The sleeve of the other was loose and sheer but classy. A line slashed from that shoulder to just over her breast on the other side. It hung loosely on top, gathered at her trim waist and then was skin tight from what I could see, down to the floor.

She had to have on at least six-inch heels to make herself appear so much taller.

I wanted to rip them off her feet. I liked her smaller size. She was petite. She had a personality ten times larger than her height and a beauty that surpassed it all.

“She’s pretty,” my mom said. Her gaze was on Elizabeth.

Shit. I was doing a bang-up job of keeping my distance.

“She’s a reporter covering the story.”

“Hmm.”

I peered at my mom. She might have been sweet and kind but biting her tongue wasn’t her strong suit. “What?”

She grinned at me over the edge of her champagne flute that held sparkling water. “I didn’t say anything.”

I gave her a look. “That sound said enough.”

“If you say so.” She laughed lightly and I bent, kissed her cheek. “Don’t you need to speak soon?”

“Yeah. You bring your tissues?”

“Always have them when you speak of this, honey. And I know your dad said earlier how proud we are of you, but I just want you to know, if Harrison was here, he would have grown up looking to you like his real-life hero, and he would have chosen a man worthy of that honor to look up to.”

Damn her. Making me teary-eyed and emotional before I spoke was plain evil.

“Mom. If Harrison survived, don’t you know I would have spent my life looking to him as the real-life hero?”

After all, that would have meant he defied death.

“Darn it.” She sniffed and opened her clutch. “You weren’t supposed to make me cry yet.”

I kissed her cheek again and hugged her quickly. “You started it.”

She slapped my back. “Such a child. Go. Make us proud.”

Which meant when I walked away from my mom, my dad taking over his job of hugging her as I passed her over, I went to the stage not thinking of Elizabeth and what I wanted to do to her at Velvet as soon as fucking possible, I went focused on the entire damn reason and purpose for the night.

My mom was a miracle worker without even realizing it.

Or, perhaps she was just that damn smart and knew exactly what she’d done.

I wouldn’t put either past her.

* * *

I gavemy welcome speech and promised the reporters I would give them a few minutes to ask the questions that I didn't get to answer yesterday due to my hasty departure. We ate dinner and once the music kicked in afterward, several of the player’s wives took to the dance floor.

I was in the middle of a conversation with David Cumber and his wife Kassy, the owners of the Rough Riders. We’d spent most of the conversation talking about the season and the upcoming game, but as much as I loved football, there was only one thing on my mind for most of the night.

Like a moth to a flame, I knew exactly where Elizabeth was every minute of the evening. My sudden obsession with her should have bothered me more, but for some reason, I couldn't find the reason that would make me stay away.

"Don't you agree, Gage?”

I had no clue what David had just said. Based on the grin Kassy wore, she knew exactly where my attention had drifted. Hard not to figure out considering I was still fixed on Elizabeth.

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