Something Real (Whiskey Men, #2)(5)

But before he can answer, one of the soccer moms I recognize from the other games I’ve been to waves at Ford. “Yoo-hoo, Ford! I’m glad you made it.”

He grumbles and waves at her before turning us in the other direction to stand farther down the field. I can’t help but laugh. “She’s not giving up, is she?”

He shakes his head and looks over his shoulder. I swear the man looks stricken, which surprises me. Looking the way he does, he has to be used to women checking him out. “No, she’s definitely not giving up. What about you? You going to help me out?”

My eyes flick up in surprise because the idea of helping him is definitely doable. I mean, half the time, I have to stop myself from reaching up and touching his hair, grabbing his hand, or kissing him. All things I shouldn’t be thinking or doing as his assistant. But before I can ask him what he has in mind, the coach hollers for him.

He gives him the one-minute finger and says, “Shit.”

I look around, expecting another mom to be heading our way, but when I don’t find one, I ask him, “What’s wrong now?”

He smiles at me and pushes a piece of hair off my face. I try not to gasp or let any emotions show. His thumb trails across my cheek, and then all of a sudden, it’s gone. “I’m about to have a stern talking to.”

I bite my lip. “By who?” I point to the coach. “Him?”

He nods. “Yep, I’m sure by now Ollie has told everyone about the party at the trampoline park, and Coach is not going to be happy—”

“We’re not canceling. Ollie is going to be so excited, and we’re not going to let him down.” I say it before thinking and then, realizing it’s not really my place, I tack on, “I mean, that’s what I think anyway… I know you can do whatever you want.”

He looks at me surprised but nods his head. “No, I agree with you. We’re not canceling. I can handle a good talking to.”

He walks away, and I know I shouldn’t, but I watch him the whole time until he stops next to the coach. Ford had changed into jeans too, and even though he looks good in a nice pair of dress pants, the man can definitely fill out a pair of Levi’s. Damn.

“Lily, Lily, you came.”

I turn just in time as a sprinting Ollie leaps against me. I catch him as I fall down on my behind and wrap my arms around him with a laugh. “Of course, I came. I hear you’re playing goalie today. I couldn’t miss that.”

“Did you hear I’m having a party? You’ll come, won’t you?”

Emotion hits me in the chest, and I don’t try to examine it. “You want me at your birthday party?”

He rolls his eyes and gives me a big rolling, “Ddduuuhhhh. Will you come?”

I nod. “I hear they have dodgeball there. You’re going down, little Blaze!”

He cackles, stands up, flexes his little arms, and then points at me. “No, you’re going down, Lily. Oh, it’s on.”

I get up and steady myself on my feet. “Oh, it’s definitely on. I can’t wait.”

He turns and starts running toward his dad. They bump fists, and Ollie must be telling him about my challenge with dodgeball because Ford’s head falls back with a laugh and he turns to look at me. Ollie runs to the field, and Ford is heading my way. He’s still watching me, but now the smile is gone from his face. His gaze travels down my body and back up again. I can’t take my eyes off him.

“Ford, hey, I’m so glad you came.”

The woman comes out of nowhere and puts herself directly in the path of Ford. I hear him say, “Of course I came. My son’s playing.”

His tone is droll, and it’s obvious that he’s not happy about being stopped by the woman. I’ve heard the rumors, and the few times I’ve been to the games, I’ve seen it all in action. There are a few moms that seem determined to get their claws in him. I can’t say I blame them, but I would expect a little more decorum from the women. I mean, there are kids all around.

She’s not giving up, though. I see him step to the side, and then she does the same. I don’t think about it, I just act. I walk toward them, slide around the woman, and position myself between her and Ford. I flatten my body to his and look up at his stunned face. My hands slide to his shoulders, and I go on my tiptoes as I pull him down to me. “Hey, honey. I’m sorry I was late.”

His hands grip my hips as my lips meet his. I should just give him a peck and pull back. We are at a soccer field that is filled with kids. But my thoughts are a jumble as his fingers dig into my denim-covered hips and he pulls me flush against him. The kiss deepens, and I slide my tongue against his. My nipples are pebbled, and I slide a little to the left just to feel them rub against his hard chest. My hands go around his neck, and I thread my fingers through the hair at his nape.

He groans, and that’s what brings me to my senses. Not the people cheering because I guess the game has started. Not the coach hollering at the players to run and get the ball. Nope, I let him go when he groans into my mouth. If his eyes were wide before, they are hooded and about two shades darker now. He’s watching me closely as I try to pull away.

He doesn’t let me go far. I turn around, and the woman I interrupted is staring at us with her mouth hanging open. “Hi. I’m Lilian.”

“Megan,” she mutters before walking backwards. “I’m going to go watch the game from my seat.”