Page 23 of Hard Hearts

“You’re a girly girl, and this seems like a thing girly girls would like.”

Both her eyebrows climb up. “You think I’m a girly girl?”

I squeeze my chin between my thumb and index finger. “Is this a trick question?”

“No, but Luna’s the one in our friend group that’s known for being, well, extra girly. She loves clothes and makeup and doing her nails. Every time you see her, she looks gorgeous.”

“Sounds like you. Every time I see you, you’re looking like you walked out of a fashion magazine. Even when you’re tired from working, heads are turning when you enter a room.”

She opens her mouth to say something and then snaps it shut. With a shake of her head, she says, “I was going to argue but then thought, why? If that’s your impression of me, I’m happy.”

“Good. Glad we’re on the same page.”

The waiter appears with a plate piled with sandwiches. A couple of ladies next to us burst out in laughter. I wink at them and take the plate. “Thanks, man.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Gunner.” He leans in close and moves his hand to the side to reveal a marker. “Would you sign my apron?”

“Sure, but not until after we eat. I’m having dinner with my girl right now”—I nod toward Frankie—“and she deserves my attention. Know what I mean?”

Ryan nods fervently. “I do. Sorry. I’ll wait.” He backs away, almost genuflecting. There’s a certain kind of reverence fans have for me that makes me bashful. All I do is throw a pigskin on Sundays.

I feel a nudge against my foot and look up to see Frankie grinning at me. “You’re cute when you’re shy.”

“Cute?” I scoff in mock indignation. “I’m a burly quarterback.” I flex my arm.

Our neighbors clap.

Rueful, I lower my arm down and turn to Frankie for help.

“He doesn’t get out of the locker room much,” she says, leaning toward the older ladies.

“Sweetheart, who cares?” cackles one of the white hairs wearing a similar tweed suit, only hers is topped off by a choker of fat pearls. Need to get a set of those for Frankie. “If I were your age, I’d be locking him in a room and working him until we were both sweating.”

She waves a hand in front of her face while Frankie turns bright red.

“You heard her, Frankie. Time to lock me up.” I hold out my hands.

“And I’ll throw away the key,” she grouses.

“That’s the spirit,” encourages the older woman.

Frankie tosses her napkin on the table in frustration, and I roar with laughter. “I’m holding you to that promise later tonight,” I tell her.

“This is not Gilded Teapot appropriate conversation,” she replies primly, but there’s a light in her eyes that wasn’t there when I picked her up at her office. Making this girl smile makes my chest swell like I’ve thrown a four-touchdown game. I’ve got to lock her down or I’m not worth a penny of my new contract.

Chapter Seventeen

FRANKIE

I’m not sure what to make of this man. Kaden Gunner is turning out to be nothing that I keep trying to label him. I should know better than most to not judge from a glance or a few people's comments. Even my own.

I keep wanting to put him into this box when he doesn’t fit, but damn do I keep trying because putting him in that box is safe. It’s a tactic I learned long ago to protect myself and keep men at a distance. Up until Kaden, it worked like a charm. The thing is, I believe it’s far too late and I’m too deep into this. It’s as though he’s opened Pandora’s box, and now there is no closing it for me.

The older ladies at The Gilded Teapot had only been teasing earlier, but there was still a spark of jealousy I felt. It wasn’t necessarily directed at them; their comments had only nudged my mind in the direction of thinking about the possibility of anyone being with Kaden. Those thoughts hadn’t sat well with me.

That’s when reality started to truly sink in, that I could push Kaden away all I wanted, but that sharp pain of jealousy I’d haveif I saw him with someone else wasn’t going away. Our lives are already intertwined because of our friend group. Which means that I will see Kaden for the rest of my life, whether I want to or not, at my girlfriends’ weddings or in tabloids.

"You're quiet," Kaden says when we're back in his car. "Are you okay?"

---