“Thank you. And thank you for dragging me along yesterday. I had a surprisingly good time. At Teddy’s rugby game, Gemma made it seem like no one would ever want to be in my presence because I’m too much to deal with. I feel like that’s half the reason I’m being so difficult.”
“I’m glad you came.” He strokes his pinky against my thigh while holding on to the pool coping. “In my defense,” he uses my words, “when we first met, I might have been too comfortable speaking to your daughter as if I knew her. But I was excited to meet her. Because of Teddy.” Tate clarifies. “He hasn’t stopped talking about her.”
Silence falls on us again. I take another sip, unsure of what to say and well aware, with the way I’m babbling, that this should be my last glass.
“And youstillhaven’t told me your name.” He quips with a smile that could charm Medusa into giving away her snakes.
“Evelyn.”
“Evelyn.” I melt, hearing my name fall from his lips. “It’s a beautiful name.” He looks down like a shy little boy, then meets my eyes again. “Like you.”
I look at him, stunned for a few breaths. The wine has me under a spell. I almost believe him, especially with the sheepish look on his face. He’s just being kind. There’s no way a man like him would think I’m beautiful. Me, a housewife that’s becoming way too infatuated with him.
“Thank you, but you don’t have to flatter me, Mr. Grimm. The fact that I’m here with you means I’veforgiven you, and hopefully, you’ve forgiven me as well.”
“I’m not trying to flatter you, Evelyn. I do think you’re beautiful.” He rests his hand on top of mine and gives it a quick squeeze before taking hold of the side of the pool again. “In this light, you can pass for Gemma’s sister.”
“Much older sister.” I flutter my lashes at him sarcastically. He stares at me without saying anything for a beat. Too uncomfortable with the quiet, I break the silence. “Was it a good offer?” I ask to keep the conversation going and regain my footing.
“May I call you Eve?”
I nod. “Yes. That was my nickname when I was young.”
“Was? You don’t like it?”
“I do. Brandon hated it. He only called me Evelyn. But that sounds so stuffy and grown-up to me. Eve makes me feel young and sexy.”
“Good. Because that’s how you should feel.”
“Why don’t you want to talk about what happened yesterday? If you want me to mind my business, just say so,” I hold my hand up. “And I promise I will. Scout’s honor.”
“Somehow, I don’t think you were a boy scout.” Now it’s his turn to look in the water as if it holds some magical power. “Just coming to terms with where I am in life, and it’s not easy. You know?”
He sounds so sad as he shakes his head. I yearn to throw my arms around his shoulders and promise better days. Which is ridiculous since I probably won’t see much more of him unless Gemma stayswith his nephew, and, considering their age, a long relationship is unlikely.
“When I finished playing, I’d hoped to get picked up as an analyst. I didn't. This was probably the best offer I’m going to get—just to screw around and act like an imbecile. But being on the road again.” He shakes his head and tightens his lips. “Keeping up with something I’m not interested in, it would be all about the money, and that’s not worth it to me. Playing rugby, I had a purpose.” His voice drips with pride. “I played hard for my club to win a championship. The Nurples,” he smirks. “They’re not serious. They’re a fun night out. That’s all. Don’t get me wrong, it’s great for those guys. They’re young and . . .” he closes his eyes, “it’s just not for me.”
He’s not as shallow as I thought. “I don’t know.” I place one hand behind my back and lean into it, holding my wine goblet with the other. “They looked like they enjoyed what they were doing, and they got plenty of female attention. The meet and greet was a madhouse.”
He gives me a crooked smile. Once again revealing the secret sexy side he’s kept hidden under his gloomy, grim facade. Until now. A strange sensation rushes down my spine.
“I knew you liked those shirtless dances.” His foot touches mine in the water, just barely, before he moves it away, heating me up and giving me chills at the same time.
“You wouldn’t be flirting with me, Mr. Grimm, would you?”
“Me? Never.” He feigns insult. “Why would you think that?”
“Because fishing for a compliment and playing footsie feels a lot like flirting. And you promised,” I take another long sip of wine before continuing, hoping he doesn’t see how much I want him to flirt. “You promised if I came here tonight, it would just be to talk. No flirting. No funny business.”
As much as I want him to be, I know it isn’t likely that he’s flirting, not seriously, at any rate. Why would he when any woman would jump at the chance to be with him? Besides, anything between us would be messy at best and could end badly for everyone. Including the two people we love the most.
“I wasn’t fishing for a compliment, although I’ll be happy to take one.” Again that slight smile that makes me feel like melted butter. “And, no. I’m not flirting.”
“Are you sure about that?” Now I’m the one fishing for a compliment. I look up at him through my lashes. It’s been such a long time since I had the attention of a good-looking man, even friendly attention, and I’m soaking this up.
“If I were flirting with you,” he leans over and whispers in my ear. “You’d be in the pool and out of your clothes with my lips all over you.”
