Page 63 of Book and Ladder
“I saw her yesterday. She’s grown up to be quite a beautiful woman.”
I bristle with an emotion I can’t pinpoint. My jaw flexes involuntarily.
Daisy’s my … enemy? Mysomething. Not Declan’s anything.
“She’s … alright.” My voice cracks like I’m twelve again and my big brother’s cornering me about a crush.
Not that Daisy’s my crush. And, Declan’s right. Daisy always was pretty—but now? Now she’s the kind of beautiful that makes men stop and turn their heads. She’s wholly unaware of her pull. Between her chestnut hair cascading down her back and those golden-brown eyes … the full curve of her lips … Yes. She’s beautiful. But I’m not about to admit my appreciation to Declan—or anyone.
“Alright?” Declan presses. “She’d attract the attention of my whole team if she were in the stands at a game. That long brown hair, her perfect complexion, those deep eyes that seem to be holding a secret. Of course, she nearly sneered at me. But that was hot in its own way. I love a woman who takes a stand and doesn’t back down.”
I chuckle at the thought of Daisy sneering at my brother.
And he just defined my idea of the perfect woman: feisty, but not mean. Spirited, but only because she knows her own mind. Someone who’s able to discuss books.
M&M comes to mind briefly. It’s an absurd thought. We’ve agreed, for my sake and the sake of the podcast, to keep our relationship anonymous. But she does seem to fit all the qualities of a woman I’d pursue if I were looking for a romantic relationship.
Daisy probably fits the definition too—only she’d court me like a praying mantis. Heat prickles the back of my neck, and I rub the spot. Decapitation’s a steep price for love.
“I would have thought you’d fall for someone more like Mom,” I say.
“A woman who contentedly dwells under my shadow?” he asks, then quickly adds, “No disrespect to Mom. They’re happy. He’s good to her.”
“Yeah. That’s what I pictured. If you ever settled down, I thought it would be with someone who rotated in your orbit.”
“Nah. Thanks—or no thanks—to my job, women with stars in their eyes throw themselves at me constantly. I don’t want a groupie. I want a partner. You know?”
Declan continues cooking our massive breakfast, including what looks to be about half a pig’s worth of bacon and sausage currently sizzling in my frying pan. He’s also planning to scramble a dozen eggs for the two of us. I’m juicing oranges per his command. There are bagels in the toaster, ready to be toasted when the eggs go into the pan. I eat a lot, but this guy eats like he’s got a ravenous family of raccoons hiding inside his belly.
“Now I know why they pay you the big dollars,” I tease. “They have to cover your grocery bill.”
“Nah. They pay me the big dollars because I’m awesome.” He gives me that unbothered grin of his.
My brother’s only half joking. Scouts sought him out when he was in high school. He had his choice of college teams. And then, agents came knocking and he got drafted into the NFL. His first two years were spent playing for Indiana. When the Thunder made a bid, he came back to Tennessee.
“Mom told me she set you up with Blaire.”
“She told you, huh?”
“Yeah. How was the date?”
“Fine. She’s nice.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Declan shakes his head.
He transfers the meat to the paper towels and starts cracking eggs into a mixing bowl.
He looks up at me with his brows drawn down. “Blaire’s gorgeous, from a good family, smart, and she’s into you. What more could you ask for?”
“I don’t know.” The words push out on a heavy exhale.
I really don’t know. Declan’s right. On paper, Blaire is everything I should want in a woman.
“So you’re not seeing her?” he asks.
“Not unless you count the family supper after our date when Mom invited Blaire without asking me. Thankfully she and I had already had the talk.”
“The talk?” Declan pauses. “Aww, man. You friend zoned her?”
