Meet Me Halfway

“Yeah, I’m basically the best.”

I laughed, snagging his shoulder and twisting him toward the door. “All right, hot shot, time to go inside.”

He grumbled an irritated, “Fine,” before also adding, “My mom will text you the time and place if you want to go.” He darted away, avoiding the playful smack I aimed at the back of his head.

I returned my attention to Garrett, feeling my pulse race when he shortened the distance between us to lean against the side of my Jeep. “Don’t let him guilt trip you, you don’t have to go Sunday.”

His face seemed contemplative, as he stuck his hands in his pockets and looked over my head toward the house. “You work, don’t you?”

I lowered my eyes, adjusting the strap of my purse over my shoulder. “Yeah, it’s at eleven in the morning, which is in the middle of my shift.”

“I’ll go.”

“You don’t have to—”

He cut me off again, straightening to his full height and stepping into my personal space until I had to tip my head back in order to maintain eye contact.

“Text me the address. I’ll go. I’ll even bring him home afterward. It’s not like it’s out of my way.” He smiled slowly, and it was sinful.

My lungs forgot how to work, and I had to swallow before I could answer. “I don’t have your number.”

“Give me your phone.”

What I should’ve done was scrunch my nose and told him I don’t take orders from men towering over me. What I should not have done was inhale his clean, male scent and hand my phone over without so much as a word.

A few seconds later, a ding came from the back pocket of his jeans, and he smiled. I reached to take my phone back, but he ignored me, leaning forward and pushing it into my purse. The way his face hovered over mine while his fingers eased the device through the open crevice of my purse straps should not have had me squeezing my thighs together, but my body officially had a mind of its own.

Feeling way in over my head and suddenly needing a cold shower, I side-stepped, putting some much-needed space between us. “I better go check on Jamie, he’s probably stuffing his face with snacks and ruining his dinner.”

His eyes dipped to my neck, then traveled up to my ears before resting back on my eyes. I retreated a few more steps, suddenly nervous my thoughts were written across my face.

“Have a good night, Madison.”

“Yeah, you too.” I took off, walking faster than was necessary until I’d shut the door, effectively cutting off his relentless stare. I dropped to the ground, my pulse erratic.

A buzzing sound caught my attention, and my stupid, idiotic heart picked up. Gripping my phone somehow felt intimate and dirty after the thoughts I’d had over his handling of it.

I unlocked my screen, and promptly burst out laughing, startling the dogs who’d come to greet me. Jamie poked his head out of his room, but I continued smiling down at my phone, wider than I had in a long time. I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, I was in so much trouble.

He’d put himself in my phone as Sugar Daddy.





Chapter Fifteen





Cradling two foil-wrapped hot dogs and two steaming Styrofoam cups, I made my way up the bleacher steps, focusing every bit of concentration on not tripping in my skirt and heels. If I’d known I would be here today, I would have dressed in a damn pantsuit. Or packed jeans and an extra sweater. Hindsight was a bitch.

I’d missed the entire beginning half of Jamie’s first game but had at least arrived in time for the second half. My boss made a deal with me. He allowed me to slip out as soon as I’d finished payroll and paid me for a full day on the promise that I would babysit his granddaughter for free in a couple weeks.

Was it ethical? Probably not, but I’d agreed in a heartbeat. I was excited as hell to surprise Jamie.

I’d scanned the area for my parents, knowing they’d be here somewhere, and found them sitting in foldout camping chairs closer to the field. But like a damn planet drawing me to his gravity, my eyes were pulled to the bleachers.

Sitting several rows up, right above a group of school moms I recognized, was a familiar black hoodie hugging a body I couldn’t miss if I tried. By the way the women before him were glancing back, they hadn’t missed it either.

He had what looked to be a gray beanie pulled down over his head, and he was leaned forward, elbows resting on his thighs, rubbing his hands together for warmth. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed seeing him. I’d only caught quick glimpses of him the past week, and he hadn’t responded to my text when I’d given him the field location.

Seeing him felt like a sun was settling inside me. The man had no idea I would be here, yet he’d shown up. For Jamie. I pressed my handful of items against my chest, trying to dampen the uncomfortable pressure there, and began the climb.

Making it to his row, I shuffled my way past a few long legs and knobby knees, trying not to stab my heels into toes or knock over beverages. A gust of wind shoved into me, yanking and pulling loose curls across my face. Hands full, I made do with shaking my head and blowing a few pieces off my nose while cursing.

Garrett’s head whipped in my direction, and he half-stood, eyes lighting up as a slow, panty-melting smile formed on his lips, his dimples on full display.

The moms who’d been watching him like he was the game rather than their actual children, gaped openly. I was torn between half of me completely understanding while the other, irrational half wanted to shove them down the bleachers.

Garrett straightened to his lumberjack, six-foot whatever height as I made my way toward him. His eyes trailed from my heels, up my pencil skirt, and lingered on my lilac sweater.

Either he was a secret fashion connoisseur with an eye for thrift shop finds, or he appreciated the half-inch of visible cleavage my scoop-neck sweater showed.

By the darkening of his eyes, I was pretty sure it was the latter. I pushed down the thrill the thought sent me. It wasn’t necessarily me he was ogling, I told myself. Garrett Rowe was simply a boob man. The idea he might enjoy someone else’s rankled, but I pushed that down too. All my idiotic thoughts could have a damn party down in the pit of my stomach.

“I come bearing gifts.”

His eyes dipped down once again, and the corner of his lips quirked up. For a moment, I swore he was about to make a dirty joke about what my gifts were, but he refrained. Instead, he sat back down, taking the cups from me and setting them on his other side out of the way.

“Hot chocolate and hot dogs?” He quirked an eyebrow, and I chuckled, ungracefully plopping my butt next to him.

“They were out of coffee, and you looked cold.” I unwrapped my foiled meal and looked out onto the field to try to pinpoint Jamie.

There was a beat of silence before he bumped my shoulder with his and said, “Thank you.”

I replied by reaching over to toast his wrapped hot dog with the tip of my own. Taking a giant bite of the rubbery, luke-warm food, I desperately wished I had some mustard and relish to drown it in.

I chewed, watching miniature humans chase after a ball. I had no idea what the rules were or who was winning. To be honest, I wasn’t into sports at all. Growing up, I’d only participated in the school dance team and my brother had been into cross country, so soccer was outside my bubble of knowledge.

“He’s done really well.”

“Hm?”

“Jamie. He’s played almost the entire game so far, and he’s done well. He’s a good team player, which I doubt is common at this age.”

I smiled around my food, pleased, but the feeling didn’t last long.

“Glad you were able to make Jamie’s first game, Madison. You almost missed it.”

The comment came from Tristan, the woman sitting in the center of the mom trio in front of us. I’d run into them a few times before, and they were no fans of mine.

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