Worth the Risk(105)
Four? I look at her. How much has she had to drink?
“Tonight, we will crown the first ever winner of Modern Family’s Hot Dad contest.” The crowd cheers, and no matter how hard I try to see through the stage lights blinding me, I can’t find Grayson. “So, without further ado, let’s announce the winner. Coming in fourth place, we have our dad of adorable twin girls! He is an executive by day but doesn’t hesitate to pull diaper duty at night. Give a round of applause to Gideon McMaster!”
A cheer goes up, and everyone claps as a strikingly handsome African American man makes his way to the stage, smile wide and fist pumping to the cheers calling out his name.
“And in third place, we have Christian Oliver. Christian is the father of five—FIVE, people. He’s a navy officer, helping to protect and serve as well as being a devoted dance dad.” Another round of applause erupts as Christian makes his way through the crowd, giving high fives as he goes.
“The runner-up, folks . . . what can I say? He is a man who I have a little crush on,” Rissa says, and I nod subtly, knowing that she’s talking about Braden and that Grayson won. “He’s a high school teacher, educating minds and I’m sure causing a few crushes among his students. He’s a father of one super adorable little boy and a triathlete on the side. Congratulations, Ethan Elliot! You are the esteemed runner-up of the Hot Dad contest.”
Ethan makes his way through the crowd. His hair is a little long around the ears, his glasses are slightly askew, and the blush on his cheeks is damn adorable. It makes me like him on the spot.
While I’m watching him, it dawns on me that he isn’t Braden. And Braden should be second place since I know Grayson was solidly in first the last time I checked the numbers.
Rissa meets my eyes ever so fleetingly, and there is something there I can’t register before she turns back to the crowd. “Now . . . for the moment you’ve all been waiting for—the Hot Dad of the Year! The winner of the ten-thousand-dollar cash prize, a trip to anywhere in the continental United States, and the man who will grace the cover of next month’s issue of Modern Family. He isn’t only fit and sexy, but also, he’s one hell of a dad. And by day—and sometimes night—he saves lives for a living. Let’s welcome your Modern Family Hot Dad of the Year, Braden Johnson.”
There is a cheer across the room, but I’m too stunned and more than a little confused to participate.
Something is going on.
The next few minutes are a blur—Braden gives a cute little speech, Rissa thanks everyone for their support and then tells them to stay tuned for the next contest coming soon. My mind spins as I try to figure out what the hell just happened. How did my go-to guy not win? How did the face of my contest not even place?
How is Grayson going to face Luke and tell him there is no vacation?
I look for Grayson in the crowd at the same time the crowd breaks out in a chant of his name.
“Grayson. Grayson. Grayson.”
In much the same unassuming fashion he used the night of the other party at Hooligan’s, Grayson ambles to the stage, not wanting the attention but getting it nonetheless. When he steps up, our eyes meet, and he gives me that shy smile of his that curls up at one corner and makes every part of me need privacy. To talk to him. To tell him I’m here to stay. To beg him to choose me.
He waves a hand up to everyone and shouts out a thank you without bothering to take the microphone. And the whole time, all I can focus on is him. The scent of his cologne. The curl of his hair over the collar of his shirt. The strength in his hands. Simple things I’ve missed.
The crowd cheers, they take a drink to toast their hometown boy. How can they all look so relaxed while my confusion over the contest and my want to connect with him surmount everything?
“Speech. Speech. Speech.”
Oh my God. Leave him alone because I want him. I need him.
I don’t have to hide it anymore. He’s mine.
Rissa holds out the microphone again, and Grayson gives an exaggerated sigh before accepting it.
“You should’ve won!” I think it’s Grady who yells it, but all the patrons echo his sentiment.
“Nah. None of that,” Grayson says into the microphone. “Congratulations to all the men who were a part of this contest. It was so nice to be a part of something that paints fatherhood as sexy instead of the down-and-dirty job it can be most of the time.” He looks at his feet for a moment and twists his lips in a way that tells me something is on his mind. He looks out into the crowd, and I’m thrown for an even bigger loop when I see him meet my father’s eyes and nod. My dad nods back before looking at me, smiling softly, and then stepping back into the crowd like he isn’t even here. I don’t have time to process his presence or his exchange with Grayson because when Grayson speaks, his words knock all thought process from my mind. “I didn’t place in the contest because I pulled myself from it this morning.”
“What?” My response is just as loud as the rest of the crowd’s.
“Yep.” He nods through the ocean of boos. “I did.”
“Why would you do that?” another person yells. I think it’s one of his crew from work, but I can’t tell.
“I did it because there’s this girl . . .” he says, and then laughs softly. The sound weaves its way into my body and wraps around my heart. “There’s this girl I met, who, uh . . . well, she blindsided me. Point blank. She walked her heels up to my front door a few months back to let me know I was one of the top twenty of this contest, and even though I slammed the door in her face, she persisted.”