Page 73 of Sure Shot
“So you don’t really know where he stands on kids.”
“No,” I have to admit. “But if he doesn’t want marriage, it’s pretty safe to assume he doesn’t want kids.”
“But you do,” Zara points out. “Do you love him? Does he love you?”
“Youknowthese are tricky questions, right?” I fire back at my sister-in-law.
She laughs. “Yeah, Bess. As your agent, it’s my job to ask the tricky questions. In fact, do you have a sheet of paper? I’m going to have to ask you to make one of those decision charts.”
“A decision tree?” I ask drily.
“Yes!” She claps. “So, the first question is whether or not you love this guy.”
“I’m not writing that down,” I grumble.
“So you do love him.” Zara grins.
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to. It’s written all over your face.”
Well, damn it. I suppose it probably is. “I have never told him so, but he is exactly the kind of man I could love. He’s a good guy, even if he’s a little gruff on the outside. Actually I like that about him. He doesn’t suffer fools.”
“And yet he likes you,” Zara says. “When the grumpy man smiles at you, it’s like watching the sun come out.”
I feel a little pain in my chest, right in the center of my breast bone. Because she’s right. The idea that Tank would choose me over any other woman makes me feel all squishy inside.
“Next question. Do you two have a lot of chemistry? Is the sex good?”
“Check and check.”
“Excellent! So the baby-making sex would be a good time.”
“Zara,” I hiss. “You can’t talk about baby-making sex when you’re having babies with my brother. That’s got to stay in the cone of silence.”
“Fine. Moving on. Is he a good provider? If you two decided to make a go of it, would you be able to step back from your job and not starve because he’s a sculptor or a professional mime or something?”
I laugh out loud. “Do you really see me with a mime?”
“There’s a sexy version of anything, Bess. Mimes are very expressive, and I’d bet they’re good with their hands. But they don’t earn well. And a divorced mime…” She shakes her head.
I think of Tank’s hands and let out a little sigh. “Money wouldn’t be an issue. He’s a professional athlete.”
“Oh.” Zara sits back in her chair. “Well. Why didn’t you say so? I would have skipped over the sex and money questions at the same time. But I thought players were off limits to you?”
“They’re supposed to be,” I mumble. “And he’s very good with his hands. I have it bad, Z. He’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a man. You can skip right down to the big questions, because this player can’t be easily disqualified.”
“Ah.” She folds her hands. “Then the only question that matters is this one—would you marry him if he asked tomorrow?”
Oh boy. There’s a reason I don’t sit around indulging in this kind of fantasy. Because that’s an easy one. “Without hesitation.”
“Oh, wow.” Zara puts a hand over her heart. “So your heart is, like,play ball, but you’re afraid that his divorce puts him on the bench forever?”
“In the dugout, sweetie. If you’re going with the baseball analogies.”
“What is his sport, anyway? I need a visual.”
I just shake my head.
