Do You Take This Man (76)

“Our girl does not want for any social graces,” Eric said with a laugh, motioning to where RJ stood with the guy and the baby. “That’s my husband and our daughter.”

I eyed RJ turning into the gooiest version of herself I’d ever seen, making faces at the baby. I braced myself, but it didn’t hurt, not much. I pushed the thoughts of babies out of my head and turned back to Eric, who introduced me to the other guys. We were almost done picking teams when RJ returned, Eric calling out her name before she even reached the circle of players.

“You ready to lose?” I asked.

She took the ball from Eric and bounced it between her knees. “It’s probably good you’re asking yourself that question. It’s important to be prepared.”

“Big talk, Ruthie,” I said, mimicking the nickname Eric had used. The breeze blew around us, cooling the already hot and humid weather, which made it easier to forget everything I’d told her the night before. “Want to up the stakes here? Loser buys breakfast?”

Her face scrunched, eyes narrowing. “I’d love to have you treat me to breakfast.”

She dropped the ball and dribbled it to the other side of the field and left me standing there, a half smile on my face. Damn, this woman.



* * *



? ? ?

“THAT WAS A cheap trick, and you know it.”

RJ smiled, raising her palms in the air. “I didn’t say it wasn’t, but you still fell for it.”

“You feigned injury!” I held the laminated menu in my hands after we settled into the booth at the restaurant. With every option available to her, since she’d won, RJ had chosen a hole-in-the-wall breakfast place on the edge of town.

“I . . .” She smiled wider, an open smile, and her laugh almost overwhelmed me. “Yeah, I did. But you still fell for it.”

“Remind me to ignore your cries of pain next time the opportunity arises.” I pretended to study the menu but was instead taking in her face while she read the options, a line between her brows deepening.

“I’m just saying, you could have scored before checking on me, that’s all. Then you wouldn’t have ended up such a sucker.”

As I ran for the goal, RJ had pretended to trip, crying out, and when I’d stopped to help her, she’d popped up, stolen the ball, and earned the winning shot. “I should have scored and then checked on you? Do you know how much of a jerk that would make me?”

RJ shot me a plaintive look over the top of her menu. “Would you rather be a nice guy or a winner?”

I glanced back at the menu, ignoring that question. “So, why this place?”

“They make the best waffles in the state,” she said, setting the menu aside. “And since you’re buying, I thought I’d order extra.”

“I’m sure they’re good, but the best waffles in the area are at Molly’s.”

She shook her head. “Compared to here, those taste like frozen waffles that weren’t heated long enough.”

“Not possible.”

The waitress approached our table to take our order, giving RJ a warm smile. “You’ve been gone too long, girl. Thought we’d never see you again. The regular?”

RJ nodded. “And he’ll have the same.”

The waitress nodded back and walked away.

“What did you order for me?”

“Don’t you trust me?” RJ’s curls fought against the tie she had holding back her hair, a few escaping the tight hold and framing her face.

I tucked my fingers against my palm at the urge to brush them off her skin. “You literally just told me I was a sucker for trusting you.”

Her head tipped back, and I admired her throat, the way her muscles flexed in her shoulders when she laughed. “You’re right, but I never lie about waffles.” She cringed just for a second at the reference to lying, and I jumped in, moving the conversation forward before she could stumble into some awkward apology I didn’t want.

The night of the quarters wedding had been incredible and confusing. I watched RJ sip her coffee and tried to put all of that out of my mind. I’d been so angry at her when she’d lied, so furious, and then she’d texted me, and the sex was good and so raw. I couldn’t get her out of my head, and I didn’t know what to do with that, because she’d been clear about exactly what we were, but sitting here, it felt like more. “Where did you learn to play like that?”

“High school,” she said, setting the cup down, crossing her arms over each other, and leaning forward. “What about you?”

I matched her stance. “Same. Wasn’t good enough to go beyond that.”

“To be fair, you’re not that good now.”

“See,” I said, sitting back. “We were having a moment, and you ruined it.”

“I didn’t ruin it.” RJ thanked the waitress as she approached our table, and looked adoringly at her plate. She glanced up at me and winced, her nose scrunching in a way I tried hard not to notice was adorable. “Maybe I ruined it a little. I’m not good at moments.”

“I don’t know.” I looked down at my plate, where a stack of golden waffles sat next to a ceramic dish of butter. RJ had ordered the same thing for us both, and even though the three carafes of syrup seemed excessive, it wasn’t by much. Sarah had usually avoided carbs, and even though I didn’t want to think about her, the comparison popped into my head, and I glanced up to see RJ again admiring her food. “You’re not so bad.”