Page 22 of Hot Damn
This small glimpse into Beckett’s insecurities surprises me. Maybe we can move past his hostility toward my profession and forge some kind of friendship. “I’m sure you’ll be great once you get the hang of it.”
“We’ll see.” He stares at me a moment longer before he seems to remember he doesn’t like me and frowns. “Bye.”
The word is quickly followed by his exit. The speed with which he leaves is enough to cause a breeze when he closes the door behind him.
Beckett Higgison is an enigma.
Or maybe it’s the emotions I feel around him that are.
Or the fact I could have—should have—told him I own the team.
Beckett
“She owns the team!”
I look up from the steak I’m searing on the grill to see Whit racing through the back door. “What?”
“The team! She owns the team!”
She’s grinning and dancing around like she’s got ants in her pants, and I can’t help the smile that tilts my lips. “What team and who? Oakley?”
“No!” She stops moving, stares at me like I’m the dumbest man on the planet. “Well, yes, Oakley James owns the team too. But there are four of them!”
“Four of them…?” I return my focus to our dinner—there’s nothing worse than overcooked steak.
“Yeah, the Rogues are owned by KAW. And KAW also owns Rogue sportswear—you know the workout clothes I buy?”
I nod. “Yes, I’m aware the people behind Rogue sportswear also own the Rogues NHL team.”
“But did you know that KAW is made up of four women who met in college and started making sportswear in their living room?”
“No, I’m not aware of the history of your sportswear.” I have no idea why we’re having a history lesson except since two nightsago when the shit hit the fan and Whit outed herself to the world, she’s had an insatiable need to know everything about my new team. “Hey, grab that plate for me and pass it here. These steaks are done.”
“Ewe… They’re not done, they’re still red. I’m not eating that.”
“They’re medium, and you will eat it because it’s good for you.” From the moment Whit was born I’ve been a little—or a lot—obsessed with making sure she gets all the vitamins and minerals she needs to grow up healthy and strong. I never wanted her to go without nutritious food the way I did.
Whit cocks an eyebrow at me. Without words she conveys her thoughts on my continued insistence she eat red meat with the amount of iron she’ll be ingesting in mind. She’s never liked red meat. Complains it tastes like blood no matter how it’s cooked. And considering her last yearly physical showed she’s in perfect health, I need to give in on this one.
“Fine, I’ll leave yours on a little longer but I’m taking mine off now. It won’t hurt for it to sit while I char yours to black ash.”
Rolling her eyes, she holds out the plate and waits for me to put my steak on it. “Do I need to do anything else for dinner?”
“No, I made a salad and there are baked potatoes and grilled veggies keeping warm in the oven.”
“Set the table?”
“I thought we’d eat out here. It’s not too hot and the bugs aren’t biting.”
“They will now you’ve put that out there.” She puts the plate back on the outdoor table and heads toward the house. “I’ll get the bug spray and those candle thingys you bought to keep the mosquitos away.”
“Citronella candles,” I call after her. “Grab our plates too.”
When Whit comes back out, she’s carrying a tray loaded with our plates, the bowl of salad, the pan of potatoes and veggies, and I can see the bug spray tucked under one arm.
“Here, give me that.” Rushing over, I take the tray from her and put it on the table.
“I was fine, I didn’t need your help, and you saved me all of five steps, Dad.” She might not have rolled her eyes but it’s in her tone.
