Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 92167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
“I have a car.”
“And it’s already blocked in by my truck.”
“So move your truck and I can get out.”
“You’re coming with me and the longer we argue about this, the greater the chance of being late. And we’re not going to broach the subject as to why you were driving Dawson’s Acadia if you had an actual working vehicle.”
She stepped close and he fisted his hands to keep them to himself.
“You’re just used to running roughshod over people. I’m not one of them.”
“I consider it looking after my employees, Emma. Now will you get your ass in the truck? Or do you want me to put you there?”
Her gaze heated even while she blushed. Didn’t stop her from moving by him, the jeans she wore cupping that full ass in a delightful way. He had an image of her wearing those jeans combined with his jersey, his number emblazoned on her back. Branding her. Marking her.
His.
Linc followed, making sure she was in his truck before getting behind the wheel. As the door closed behind him, he touched the ignition button and glanced at the spitfire in the cab with him.
“Let’s talk schedule.”
He smiled even as his ears rang from her screech of frustration.
Linc had to admit, Emma was shrewd. The woman was far more than how she viewed herself and he longed to help her realize that.
He stood off to the side and watched the parents congratulate their children on a well-played game. More than one game was being played today and right now the older children were on the field.
Even as he scanned the group, noting all the happy faces taking in the ongoing game, he couldn’t deny how often his gaze drifted to Emma and Greer. Dressed far more modestly than the majority of mothers in attendance, married and single alike, she was the only one who interested him. It was obvious how much she doted on her daughter, even more so than when she’d first come to him about Greer playing baseball.
His phone rang and he touched his ear, wishing he’d sent it to voicemail the second he did.
“This is Linc.”
“Hey, son!”
It took a moment before he realized who he spoke with—it wasn’t his father. No, of course not. This was a potential investor, Mr. Stevenson.
“Mr. Stevenson. Did we have a meeting I wasn’t aware of?” He frowned over the loud sounds. “I remember you said you were coming to town. I’m sorry, I’m at a ballgame so I’m having difficulty hearing you.”
“I’m at one, too.”
This time, the voice wasn’t just in his ear but behind him. Linc spun and found himself face-to-face with Mr. Huxton Stevenson.
And what did you know, he did have a Stetson and a bolo. Guess that photo of him was real and not just a gimmick for being from Texas. The hat was black, not white, but still.
The man grinned and rocked back in a pair of black—snakeskin, maybe—boots that gleamed in the late afternoon sun.
“Surprise, son.” Stevenson held out his hand. “Great to finally meet you. The wife wanted to do some shopping, so we hit the east coast early and figured we’d come to your inaugural game.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuckity fuck.
Shaking the man’s hand, Linc plastered on a smile. “Glad you could make it. Sorry I didn’t know ahead of time.”
Stevenson’s shrug said it all. The man had wanted to surprise him. “I like seeing people on their own turf without them knowing I’m watching. Now, where is your little woman? I’m guessing that’s the pretty little filly who was with you in your truck when you drove in.” He waggled bushy eyebrows. “Later than some.”
There was a special place in hell for him given what he was about to do. Linc nodded. “Yes, that’s her. My Emma.”
How the hell did I forget that this man thinks I’m with someone?
“Great! I can’t wait to meet her.” Mr. Stevenson scoured the area and grinned. “She’s by that set of bleachers,” he said as he struck off in a fast gait.
Just tie a cement block around my feet. I’m sunk.
…
Emma waved as her daughter ran off with some of the other children on her baseball team. They wanted to watch the older children play their game. She brushed some of her hair behind her ear as she took a deep breath.
Tears burned the backs of her eyes as she watched Greer with her friends.
Friends. Her daughter had friends.
She’d watched her daughter bloom over the past few weeks and it had been worth every ache in her exhausted body. And it didn’t matter that she had been awake at three this morning to head off to work. What did matter was the joy in her little girl’s face.
Although, according to one hot Linc, she no longer worked for that horrible repulsive man but for him at the center. It brought out fears that had no place here. Right now, she wanted to celebrate the small things, the things that meant the world to her. Greer and her first game.