Page 58 of Playbook
I tear my gaze from the table to him. Something about his expression tells me he isn’t kidding. And I can see where a girl might fall for him hard enough for that sentiment to be true.
My mouth opens to reply with some witty, cutting remark, but I can’t find the words. I’m oddly touched that he considered how I might want to spend my time at this event even though I’m here for him.
And the other thing…I think I’m disappointed that I won’t be spending the day with him. Weird. Then again, I doubt any of the children waiting in line are going to ask me about Brogan’s latest stats so that’s a plus.
He’s still waiting for me to say something, so I shake the thoughts from my head. “It’s perfect, actually. Thank you.”
The proud smile on his face makes my stomach flip.
“I’ve never painted anyone’s face, but hopefully it’s not that complicated.”
“I have no doubt that you’ll be awesome at it. Maybe later you can do me.”
Does my mind go straight to the gutter? Yes, yes it does.
“Maybe,” I squeak out, and I could swear by the way he fights to keep his laughter in check that he knows exactly where my thoughts went.
“Jenna.” He looks around me and the woman sitting closest to us lifts her gaze from her work and smiles at him in the way I’m noticing all women do. Even ones that don’t consciously realize they want to sleep with him still are affected by him.
“This is my girlfriend, London.”
His girlfriend. I wonder if I’ll ever get used to him saying it. Likely not before this whole thing is over.
“Hi.” She turns her attention to me and waves a paint brush. She has long blonde hair and a friendly smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“You too.”
Brogan leans in and his scent of cedar and citrus comes with him. “I’ll be in there if you need me,” he says and points again at the tent. “Good luck.”
“Are you sure you don’t want your face painted first?” I ask him, raising my voice over the noise as he moves away from me. Frankly, the practice sounds nice. Also, each of his big steps away from me has me wanting to run after him and attach myself to his side. I stop myself.I am a smart and independent woman, dammit.
But I am not exactly a kid wrangler. Sierra got all the maternal instincts. Kids kinda freak me out if I’m honest.
“You mean do I want you to do me?” He winks. Damn him. He knows exactly what he’s saying, and my face is getting hot again. “Later, sweetheart.”
Blowing out a breath, I watch him disappear into the tent across from me.
Jenna gives me a quick rundown of the brushes and paints, plus a handy sheet with different art pieces the kids can pick. Most of them are pretty basic—footballs, the Mavericks logo that I’ve already seen several little boys and girls proudly wearing, unicorns, hearts, and a variety of other adorable animals.
I’m feeling as confident as one could expect until the first little girl sits down in front of me and demands I make her into a butterfly. She looks to be around four or five, but she has a whole lot of sass and determination in her little body. When I ask if she wants it on the right or left cheek, she corrects me, and that’s how I end up spending way too much time doing a full-face paint. The end result is pretty great, if I do say so myself, but the line has grown exponentially. And one full-face paint turns into another and then another. I get faster with each one, but I’m damn near sweating as I try to keep up with the other two women painting faces.
The kids are bouncing in place impatiently and some of the parents look annoyed.
I stand between customers to wash out my brushes and walk closer to Jenna. She gives me a knowing smirk and I shoot her what I hope is an apologetic one.
“I’m so sorry. I couldn’t tell her no and now they’re all asking for it.”
“Are you kidding? It’s amazing. Look at that line.”
Yeah, that’s what I’m worried about. “I’m going as fast as I can.”
“Don’t sweat it.” She waves me off. “You’re working for free and there are lots of other things they can go do if they’re tired of waiting.”
“Thank you.”
Her smile widens. “You’re good at this. Have you done it before?”
“No. Never.”
