Page 63 of Hello Quarterback

“You know,” Mom said. “This will be the first boyfriend of yours we’ve met in what... five years?”

“Eight,” Dad said. “Since Christian.”

We all grew quiet for a moment. He was the one I thought I would marry and grow old with. But I felt like a different person now than I had been all those years ago.

“Well, no need to worry about meeting Ford,” I said. “I’m supposed to meet him in the garage. And you’re welcome to hang out up here and finish your coffee. I can order in food for you too. I feel bad I forgot about today.”

The bell rang through the apartment, and my eyebrows drew together. Was this just the day for surprises?

“Hold on,” I told them, going to the elevator. Maybe the cleaning crew was coming early today.

But when the door slid open, Ford Madigan was standing there. I’d never seen him in jeans and cowboy boots before, but damn, my mouth was already watering. “Ford... what are you doing here? I was supposed to meet you down in the garage.”

He came to me, sweeping me into his arms and kissing me. “I missed you too much to wait.”

My stomach warmed as I kissed him, forgetting my parents were in the other room. That is, until my mom called, “Is that him?”

Ford pulled away from me, looking around the corner. “Sorry, I didn’t know you had company.”

“It’s...” Mom and Dad walked around the corner. “Ford, these are my parents.”

35

FORD

I hadno right to be as nervous as I felt watching the couple rounding the corner to Mia’s foyer. Mia’s parents were older than my dad by at least ten years, but you could still see the family resemblance. Mia had her mom’s build, her dad’s face, and a smile that was a mix of them both.

Her dad extended his hand, saying, “Nice to meet you. I’m Hugh. This is my wife, Joanne.”

I shook his hand firmly like my dad had taught me, then accepted Joanne’s quick hug.

“Well,” Mia said, speaking too quickly, “We’d better be going.”

Her mother’s face fell. “Oh, I was hoping we could have some coffee with Ford. Is that okay?”

That’s when I realized her eyes were the same shade of blue as Mia’s. I couldn’t say no to her. “We have time for coffee,” I said warmly.

She perked right up, smiling. “Great. Mia, would you be a dear and get him a mug?”

Mia threw her hands up in defeat. “Sure. Anything else? Perhaps a hot stone massage?”

Her mom ignored the sarcasm. “Why not some glasses of water too? Need to stay hydrated.”

“Okay,” Mia said, walking toward the kitchen. Damn, she looked good in her travel outfit—all soft green material that clung to her curves. But I shouldn’t be checking her out so much in front of her parents.

Her mom looped her arm through mine as we followed Mia. “And some of those chocolate-covered biscuits if you have them,” she said.

Mia chuckled. “You know I do.”

We went into Mia’s kitchen. I tried not to be obvious about staring around her space and trying to get a deeper sense of who she was. But her home was minimalistic and efficient, giving little away. I could see more of her in her interactions with her parents. Right now, she wasn’t a boss—she was a daughter.

As we settled in at the island, I said, “I’m impressed. I think that’s the only time I’ve seen Mia taking orders instead of giving them.”

Her dad laughed. “So youdoknow her.”

“Dad,” Mia griped as she handed me a mug of coffee. Then she whispered, “Ignore them,” a playful smile on her lips.

Something about the exchange endeared me to her more. She wasn’t just a strong, forceful leader. She was someone’s daughter, and it was clear how much they loved her.

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