The Player and the Pixie (Rugby #2)

@SeanCassinova I’m in love and she is the most perfect, gorgeous creature in the universe.

@RugbyUnLvr01 to @SeanCassinova NOOOOOOO!!! #Devastated :-(

@SeanCassinova to @RugbyUnLvr01 Sorry, love. #OffTheMarket But may I introduce @THEBryanLeech? He’s single and ready to mingle ;-)



Sean

Perhaps there existed a very small chance that I’m not always right about everything.

. . . Perhaps.

“I told you it was simple,” I said.

Then again, perhaps not.

Lucy shook her head, a reluctant smile playing over her delightful lips before she shouted over the music. “There was nothing simple about the conversation I had with my brother last night.”

Concern had me slowing my movements as I considered her. “Are you all right?”

She nodded, her smile enigmatic. “I’m okay.”

I frowned. “What does that mean?”

Instead of answering, her eyes darted over my face. “Were punches thrown? Because you both seem to be in good health. Or are the bruises elsewhere?”

“Please.” I rolled my eyes, twirling her then bringing her back into my arms. “You make it sound like we’re savages.”

She snorted. The sound made me laugh. I held her closer, but not as close as I wanted. It was a wedding, after all. Children were present.

Regardless, we were drawing stares. Some shocked, most disapproving. I cared nothing for others’ opinions. Only Lucy’s.

“I’m only savage with you,” I teased, liking how her eyes sharpened. Her grin turned wicked as I said the words.

“Are you . . .” she started, then drew her bottom lip between her teeth. Still dancing, she studied me uncertainly.

“Go on.”

“Are you angry with me?” she blurted at last, her expression betraying worry and guilt.

I immediately shook my head then leaned close to her ear. “No.”

“But you were?” I felt her fingers grip the lapels of my jacket.

I glanced around at the other couples on the dance floor as I spoke. “I didn’t see your note. It fell off the side of the bed and I didn’t see it on the floor until after the unpleasantness at the shop last night. I’m afraid I wasn’t looking very closely when I woke up and you weren’t there. I reacted, I overreacted, and I thought you left me last night for good and I . . . I was in a rage.”

“Oh, Sean. I didn’t leave for good. I just needed—”

“I know.” I covered her hands with mine, encouraging her to relax. “We’ll talk later.”

Embarrassingly, I didn’t see her note because I’d immediately jumped to the worst possible conclusion. I wasn’t going to admit as such out loud, but when I thought she’d left me, I’d become the ape I’d always despised in Ronan.

“I’m so sorry about the note.”

“Don’t be. I wish you would stop being sorry.” She had nothing to be sorry for. I’d been the ape. And then I’d been unforgivably awkward, unable to return her smile at the ceremony. I was unused to losing my temper, unaccustomed to losing control.

“Sean—”

Before she could continue the thought, we were interrupted. A hand on my shoulder pulled me back and away from Lucy, not roughly. Insistently.

“Come on, Cassidy. Let’s go.” William Moore stood at my side; his tone wasn’t aggressive, just adamant.

I lifted an eyebrow at my teammate. “Where are we going?”

He released my shoulder. “We’re having a match.”

“What? A rugby match?” Lucy asked, her disbelieving eyes moving between the two of us.

“That’s right.” William nodded and grinned at Lucy, disproportionately pleased by her question.

“What? Now?” I asked, glancing around the room and seeing that our team plus several others were removing their jackets and draping them over chairs.

“Yes. Now.” William pointed to my tie. “I hope that tux isn’t a rental.”

“Certainly not.” I nearly shuddered my revulsion. Renting a tuxedo, the very thought abhorrent.

“Good. Lucy can hold your jacket and cufflinks. You’re on my team.” He nodded as though everything were decided and left the dance floor, not waiting to see if I followed.

“How’d that happen?” I called after him, “Did you lose a bet?”

“Not at all. I won the coin toss and you were my first pick.” William walked backward and shot me a rare grin. “Only today, you’re playing hooker.”

***

Lucy did hold my jacket and cufflinks, as well as my belt, tie, shirt, shoes, socks, and vest. We played in pants, undershirts, and bare feet—all except for Bryan Leech as he was charged with drop-kicking the ball at the start.

The lines were estimated. Even so, Bryan’s inebriated kick made it nowhere near Ronan’s ten-metre line. As such, he opted for a scrum at the center of our haphazard field.