“Listen, lady. You know nothing about me. Where do you come off?” His brows pinch together, looking like a caterpillar napping right above his eyes.
“See how rude he is? He’s snapping at me for no reason.” I address my daughter. “I had no choice with your father, but him?” I point to Tate without giving him a glance. “I just met him and don’t owe him anything.”
I’m overreacting. I know I am, but I can’t help myself. I don’t understand the spiral I’m caught up in. This is unlike me. I don’t know if the fact that I want to keep looking back at this rude, handsome, gruff man knocked me down a peg or what, but he acts and I react. I can’t recover and ground myself. I’ve never had such a strong visceral reaction to anyone.
“I really am sorry.” This time, his voice is soft and kind. He meets my stare with puppy dog eyes, as if a simple look will soften me.
“It’s fine.” I lie, focusing on the field in front of me.
“No, it isn’t. I’ve butchered this, and my nephew will never forgive me.”
Right, he wants to smooth things over for his nephew.
“Mom, He apologized; just accept it.”
“I did. Did you not hear me say it’s fine?”
“You didn’t mean it.” Nice to know my daughter’s loyalty rests with a total stranger. “Since when are you such a drama queen?”
“Gemma,” the man scolds. “Don’t speak to your mother like that.”
I should leave. I don’t belong at a rugby game. I’m starting to feel like I don’t belong with my daughter. The child I gave birth to and nurtured. When did our relationship change?
“Your mother is doing her job.” The man continues. “I shouldn’t have butt into your conversation, and maybe I was a little short with my answer to her question.”
Hmm. This man is working an angle. I need to figure out what that is.
“Forget it.”
“No.” He stands and climbs down to the empty spot next to Gemma. Looking past my daughter, he addresses me. “Can we please start over?”
I don’t have time to answer before he extends his hand. “Hi, I’m Tate Grimm. I used to play rugby professionally, and sometimes I get annoyed when people automatically assume rugby is the same as football.”
I stare at him, unmoving. He flashes me a smile that does nothing more than warm the cold, hard anger balling in my belly.
How cocky does he have to be to think this little game of pretend will reset things? He’s a rude jackass with magical powers that turned my daughter against me. And now I’m supposed to forgive and forget? I have better things to do than give Tate Grimm another thought.
Chapter 6
Tate
The morning sun spills through my window. I stretch and yawn, dreading the day ahead. I don’t have time to lounge around. I have to get up and get ready; The limo will be here in a few hours.
I don’t want to go. I’d rather have a lazy morning in bed. But my agent thinks this could be a good opportunity, both to make money and to keep my name in the public eye. I strongly disagree.
