Page 15 of Keeping the Single Dad
My neck grew hotter, and I fought with everything I had to look calm. What must he have thought of me? I’d fed him a pack of lies last night and pretended to be the woman standing next to me. Why wasn’t he calling me out??Then again, he’d played along with the firefighter thing. Neither of us were innocent.
“Lana is twenty-two. She signed when she was eighteen.”
Alexander’s face turned from white to gray. “Twenty-two?” His mouth was tight and grim. “You’re twenty-two and I’m thirty-eight.”
He was nearly forty? He didn’t look it. Most professional footballers retired in their thirties. I’d never been with a guy over thirty. Still, what did it matter? It had only been one night. We’d both consented and had a good time. Age is just a number.
Somehow I managed to find my voice to speak. “Where have you transferred from?”
“I played in Scotland. I’ve transferred from Rangers.”
It made sense why I didn’t know him. I didn’t really follow Scottish football. Hadn’t my dad spoken about an Alex McAllister once? Was this the Alex McAllister that had played with my dad when he was up in Scotland? My stomach dropped. No. Had I spent the evening fucking one of my dad’s old team mates?
Somehow, I found my voice. “Did you play for Rangers when Logan Sinclair was captain?”
“Yes.” He frowned. “Do you know Logan?”
The sound of the mowers on the pitch grew loud. Words wedged in my throat. If only the ground could open up and swallow me.
?“Logan Sinclair is our father.” Melissa pivoted and beckoned for Alexander to follow. “And now I must insist we go.”
Alexander swallowed. From the look on his face, he found the idea of screwing his ex-captain’s daughter as unpalatable as I found screwing a friend of my dad’s. This was awful. I wanted to run back into the training suite and never come out again.?
Alexander cleared his throat. “How is Logan? It’s been a while...”
Sad. Drunk. Broken.?
Melissa pasted on a fake smile. “He’s…great.” She clapped her hands together and put a hand on Alexander’s broad back to escort him. “Time is of the essence. There are loose ends to tie up with the contract.”
“Of course.” Alexander inclined his head and flashed a tight smile. “See you around,Lana.”
I returned his smile as best I could.
Not if I see you first.
Chapter 8
Alexander
Heatblastedfromtheradiators in the brightly lit conference room. Sweat dripped down my neck. The low drone of the lawyers quibbling over tedious contract details washed over me. I let my gaze wander over the red-haired Calverdale lawyer sitting opposite me at the long table. She looked similar to the sister I’d spent the night with—the same delicately carved facial features and pale, creamy skin—but this woman didn’t have the same mischievous sparkle in her eyes and the lips on the verge of a laugh. She was smart and prim in a fitted suit and her expression was serious to the point of severe. This wasn’t the Melissa I’d spent last night with. What the hell was going on?
Gabe flashed me an indulgent smile and whispered under his breath. “Sorry about this. You know what lawyers are like when they get lawyering. The boring parts will be over soon and we’ll get you signing on the dotted line.”??
“No problem.”
He flashed me another sidelong glance. “Everything okay for you at the Beaufort?”
“Perfect.”
“Good. Let me know if you need anything, won’t you?” He raked a hand through his hair and quirked a brow. “And avoid the mushroom soup.”
Last night, Lana had told me she knew Gabe Rivers. Why hadn’t I probed her on it? What the hell had I been thinking having a one-night stand? I’d been so blinded by a beautiful young woman whispering in my ear that I’d done something so reckless. Now, I’d have to see her every day. Twenty-two for God’s sake. I was almost old enough to be her Dad. I knew her bloody Dad. My suit jacket felt suddenly too tight around my shoulders. How could I work alongside her?
Gabe leaned in. “Looks like we’re all ready for you to sign. Do you need more time to think or are we doing this?”
My guts churned. Was this crazy? I was uprooting my life with Brodie, taking him away from all his friends, to come to England. Most players my age had hung up their football boots. Retirement didn’t mean I couldn’t still forge a career in the industry. There were options like coaching or the media. Maybe a different path would be better. God knows my body needed a break. Bumping into my one-night stand couldn’t be a good omen. What were the chances of such rotten luck? Maybe this was all a huge mistake.
Sweat clung to my temples. “Could we open a window?”
