She was fully aware of how much that sounded like a warning—because it partly was. Lance didn't reply. His head was bowed, intently watching his daughter as she chewed a bite of the pan-fried chicken.
“Lance?”
Slowly, he looked up, a sullen look on his face. “I have to fly back to Boston tomorrow morning.”
“Oh.” Paige's heart shattered—for Irie's sake. She'd hate to see the two separated, but this was the inevitable part of the night where the athlete proved to be unreliable. “I thought you could stick around longer because of your suspension.”
Lance shook his head somberly. “No. I have to report back to the team tomorrow. I can't miss any practices, work outs, or meetings …”
“Oh. Figures.” Paige's fork seemed to weigh ten pounds in her hand. She lowered it to her plate with aclang. “It was nice having you around for half a day. But I guess you could never be around for longer than that, could you? You're always going to be traveling around the world, living in hotels, going out to clubs and doing who knows what.”
“Well. You're right. I'm on the road a lot, and my life won't ever be normal, thanks to my career.” He frowned, then grew hopeful. “But you and Iriecouldcome to Boston with me.”
Her heart leapt into her throat—but she tried to stay calm. “And do what?”
“You know.” He paused to deliver another bite to his daughter's mouth, then looked up at Paige, his eyes serious. “Move in.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow. Come with me.”
“Lance …! Are you serious?”
It seemed almost too easy, too good to be true, but Lance nodded assuredly. “Dead serious.”
“I'm so happy …!” But even Paige could hear it; her excitement seemed a bit hollow. She sounded like she was holding something back.
He noticed. “Is something wrong?”
Paige watched guiltily as Irie rested her head against her father's chest.
“No, it's just—so soon! What will I tell my parents?”
“The truth. I'm Irie's Dad. And you're moving in with me. And then let ’em know that they can visit us anytime.”
“Lance!” she squealed. But still she found herself searching for complications. “But what about my job? The lease with my apartment?”
“Last night you said waiting tables isn't what you want to do with your life, right? So forget it. Leave your job. And if I have to pay a penalty to get you out of this apartment, I will. Trust me, money is no problem.”
Another rush of excitement gripped her. Paige jumped out of her chair and kissed him, deeply.
Lance pulled back with a smile. “So is that a yes?”
“Don't you think this is all a littlecrazy?”
He gave a shrug. “Sure. Maybe a little. But what's even crazier is that I have adaughter.” He bounced Irie on his knee. “I mean, look at her, Paige. Look at this cutie.”
A complicated jealousy stewed in her belly again. She wanted Lance for herself—but she wanted Lance for Iriemore.And Irie had to come first. And that meant Paige couldn't allow herself to get swept off her feet by this whirlwind romance with a famous hockey player, and move out to Boston on a whim, only to get her daughter attached to a man that Paige didn't know at all. What if he had a drinking problem? What if he was into hard party drugs, like some athletes were rumored to be? What if he had a bad habit of bringing strange women back to their apartment?
“You still haven't given me an answer,” Lance said, his eyes narrowing at her. “Are yousurenothing's wrong?”
“I'msohappy you asked. You already seem like an amazingfather to Irie. You've been so great these past few hours …”
“But?” Lance asked.
“God, I can't believe I'm even saying this. But Lance, we still barely know each other.”
Lance groaned. “Not this again.”
