4th & Girl (Mavericks Tackle Love)

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4th & Girl (Mavericks Tackle Love) Page 8

by Max Monroe


  Blond, petite, adorably dimpled cheeks.

  But my God, her eyes were some of the most striking blue beauties I’d ever seen, and the line of her shy smile was enough to make me go weak in the knees.

  “You’re even better than I remember,” I said aloud, totally losing all sense of cool.

  She flushed again, pulling her hand from mine on a startle and looking to the ground, just as my Nonna came grumbling into the middle of us. Apparently, she’d missed the weird meeting between us completely.

  “Now that the pleasantries are out of the way,” she said, “let’s get to eating. I’m starving, and the two of you can make moony eyes at the table.”

  Orrrr not.

  Shit.

  Panic grabbed Gemma, it was clear to see, as she backpedaled toward the front of the room and a few steps closer to the front door.

  I stepped with her, scared I’d have to make a bid to grab her if she made a run for it.

  I felt like a crazy person even considering the idea of keeping her here against her will, but Christ, I’d been looking for her without success for almost three months.

  I didn’t know what I’d do if she just took off again without giving me any real information.

  Of course, my Nonna was cruel and unusual, and sometimes, too astute for everyone’s good.

  She glanced up to see Gemma’s moves and called her out on it.

  “Where are you going?”

  Gemma stumbled to come up with an excuse. “Well, see, I forgot I have a dentist appoint—”

  “Nope,” my great-aunt Alma cut her off. “Next.”

  Gemma’s eyes widened almost comically.

  “No, really, I have to—”

  “Sit down.”

  “No, I have to—”

  “Get the rolls for me, would you, dear?”

  I couldn’t hide my smile as Gemma gave in to the power of Nonna, her shoulders sinking slightly in defeat.

  I’d been on the other side of this rundown many a time, but somehow, it was a lot more amusing from this sideline.

  In fact, I could kind of see why my Nonna seemed to like doing it so much.

  “Don’t worry,” I told Gemma softly as she finally made her feet move and my great-aunt disappeared into the kitchen. “You’ll get used to her.”

  She looked to the carpet and back up again before gracing me with a small smile and a laugh. “I don’t know about that. I mean, I’ve been working here for a little while now, and I’ve yet to really feel prepared, if you know I mean.”

  Working for her a little while now? Who would’ve thought selling T-shirts online would require my eighty-year-old Nonna to turn entrepreneur and start hiring employees?

  Certainly not me.

  But in my and my family’s defense, ever since Great-Uncle Donnie passed away a few years back, no one could really predict what dear old Nonna had up her sleeve.

  The old biddy was a fucking wild card, that was for sure, but despite her important presence in my life, in that moment, she wasn’t my main focus.

  I smiled at Gemma, nodded knowingly, and admitted the truth. “Yeah. Okay. So you probably won’t get used to her,” I said through a soft snicker. “Lord knows, I’ve known her my whole life and never have. But you’ll never be short on laughs.”

  Her pretty blue eyes lit up with amusement. “That much I know. I don’t think a day goes by here that I don’t laugh.”

  I looked to the kitchen and back again, and when I met Gemma’s eyes once more, they’d changed—warmed.

  “She’s the best.”

  With a quick lick of her lips, Gemma gained control of all of the wild emotions cascading through her body. And in the same moment, I lost every bit of control I had.

  Good God, I was in trouble when it came to her.

  Weeks of not seeing her, minutes of confirming my feelings, and a simple movement—all enough to impact me for a lifetime.

  With a gallant hand, I offered her the space to walk into the kitchen ahead of me, and thankfully, she tucked her head and did so.

  I adjusted the hard length of my cock behind her, already throbbing beneath my zipper, and fell in line.

  By the time I made it to the kitchen, Gemma had acquired the rolls and taken a seat on one side of the table, leaving me the only empty one on the other side.

  I rounded the table and pulled out the chair with ease.

  At least if I was sitting, I wouldn’t have to worry about my body’s uncontrollable reactions being exposed.

  Nonna reached for my hand and Gemma’s and made a stern face to indicate we should close off the circle.

  Gemma was hesitant, so I held out an innocent hand, palm up, giving her the space to get comfortable.

  Nonna wasn’t as generous.

  “Are you going to take his hand anytime this century? I’m starving, and the Lord needs his thanks before I can rectify that.”

  I smothered a smile as Gemma dropped her hand into mine, and I tucked my thumb around the back of it swiftly.

  Her hand felt right there, small and delicate in the middle of my large one, and my stomach turned over at the seemingly disproportionate reaction of my heart. It was just holding hands, for shit’s sake.

  Nonna dove right in. “Dear God Almighty, thank you for this grub. Thank you for directing Leonard into the arms of his dear aunt again, and for sending me a gem like Gemma. Just work on the timing next time.”

  Gemma’s lips sucked in on themselves, and I had to disguise my laugh as a cough.

  Only my Nonna could get away with including direction for God in the middle of one of her prayers.

  “In the name of food and Jesus,” she finished, “Amen.”

  As I dug into the food and gave Gemma the space to freak out, I said a little prayer of my own in my head.

  Dear God, thank you for coincidences. And for direct access to a blond I can’t seem to get enough of.

  Today, I would let her off the hook. But now that I knew where to find her, all bets on the rest were off.

  First order of business: shut down that Reddit article for good.

  Second order of business: ask Gemma on a date, and don’t take no for an answer.

  After an awkward and completely surprising lunch at Alma’s house, I stopped by my parents’ for a quick chat and some pie.

  For one, I needed the distraction from the fact that I was still trying to wrap my mind around the weird circumstances that kept bringing Mr. Sexy Football Star and me together.

  And two, well, my mom had texted and called me no less than six times in the past week, and apparently, the family reunion between Alma and Leonard was inspiring enough to make me do something about it.

  Unfortunately, that’s where the resemblances stopped. While Leo “Leonard” Landry and Alma had quickly moved from guilt over time and distance to jokes and affection, my family had only gotten colder by the minute. Any time spent here today would apparently be interrogatory rather than quality.

  And the lead time hadn’t been great either. I’d hardly eaten three bites of my mom’s apple pie before Grandpa Joe started in on me.

  “All right, I’ll be the first one to say it,” Grandpa Joe announced. “When are you going to cut the crap, Gemma, and finish your degree?”

  My mother sighed.

  My dad nodded in agreement.

  And me? Well, I kind of felt like flipping my granddad off, but I knew that wouldn’t exactly help paint the picture that I was a responsible adult. The whole “you need to finish your degree” conversation had been nonstop since I’d let my family know I’d dropped out of school, and it wouldn’t end until I did something to change it.

  Working for Alma packaging pleasure goods wasn’t exactly the answer. And neither was flipping the bird.

  For now, I’d just have to take their questions and bear them.

  “I’m not sure.” I shrugged and picked at a few rogue apples on my plate. “I left school for a reason. Going back now doesn’t make sense.”


  “It’s a bullshit reason, if you ask me,” he muttered, and my mother sighed again.

  “Grandpa Joe!” she whisper-yelled, actually standing up for me for once. “I think you’re being a little hard on her.”

  “I’m giving her the kick in the ass she needs,” he retorted.

  “Grandpa, I love you, I really do,” I interjected, “but I think it’s about time you realize being an engineer is yours and Dad’s dream, not mine.”

  He pursed his lips. “Careers aren’t goddamn dreams, Gemma. They’re careers. They’re supposed to be practical and pay a good wage. Not achieve some crazy fantasy.”

  “Gemma, your grandpa’s right,” my dad chimed in. “You can’t live paycheck to paycheck doing temp work for the rest of your life. You need to start thinking about your future. Maybe we’d be a little more lenient if you’d actually point yourself in a direction and do something real with your life instead of wandering around like a vagabond.”

  “I am thinking about my future,” I said through gritted teeth. For fuck’s sake, when would they ever let up on this? The whole reason I’d dropped out of school was because I was finally looking at my future. I didn’t know what it was, but I was trying to figure it out. I wasn’t lazing around on my couch like a bum, and I wasn’t pursuing something they’d think was crazy, even if it was something that, deep down, I really wanted to do.

  Like music.

  What more did they want from me?

  “Look,” my dad continued. “I know that being an engineer isn’t the most exciting job, but it will give you security, sweetheart. And that’s all we want for you. We just want to know that you’re secure.”

  “I understand that, but this is my life we’re talking about here,” I retorted. “And, with all due respect, what I choose is my decision, not yours.”

  My grandpa hummed his disagreement, and my dad sighed.

  The men in my life were not the least bit happy with my choices, but hell’s bells, I couldn’t live my life for other people. I had to live it for myself.

  I think I’d more than proven I could handle my own shit. Sure, my temp jobs weren’t anything to write home about, but they paid my bills.

  And I sure as shit wasn’t running to my parents or Grandpa Joe for money.

  I was handling it, albeit slightly messy and unorganized, but handling it all the same.

  Appetite successfully gone, I took one small bite of pie and stood up from the table to set my dish in the sink.

  Thankfully, my mom led the conversation to less stressful areas and started chatting happily about my dad’s and her vacation plans.

  Which was great, but I knew time was a ticking.

  Eventually, someone would lead that shit right back to me.

  By the time Grandpa Joe started bitching about his new landscaper, I offered my goodbyes with a kiss to my dad’s and granddad’s cheek and a warm hug for my mom, and I headed back to my apartment.

  I’d just barely stepped inside my front door when my phone chimed with a text message.

  Unknown: Hey, it’s Leo.

  Leo? As in the guy whose pee I knew on a personal level? As in Alma’s nephew? As in Leo Landry? As in the man I’d just spent two of the most awkward hours of my life having lunch with?

  No way.

  Me: Leo who?

  Unknown: Leo Landry.

  Unknown: And here I thought I was a little more memorable than that…

  Me: LOL. Trust me, considering the circumstances we’ve found ourselves in, you’re memorable. I’m just a little surprised you’re texting me. How’d you get my number?

  Unknown: Let’s just say I know a guy… ;)

  I giggled to myself and typed out a response.

  Me: You mean you know Alma.

  Unknown: Or that too.

  “Who are you texting?” Abby asked from the couch, and I damn near bobbled my phone out of my hands.

  “Oh my God! You scared the crap out of me!” I leaned against the closed front door and put a hand to my chest. “How long have you been sitting there?”

  She nodded toward my face. “Longer than you’ve been home. And way long enough to see you giggling and smiling like a total weirdo.”

  “I am not.”

  “You so are.” She grinned. “Who are you texting?”

  “You don’t know him.”

  “I didn’t ask if I knew him. I asked who he is.”

  “Leo.”

  She quirked an eyebrow and then freaked me out with the strength of her memory. “The hot football player from the piss test?”

  “Yeah. Him,” I said quickly before she could start tossing out quippy lines about shit I didn’t want to hear. “Well, you’re never going to believe this, but you know that old lady I work for now?”

  “The one who likes dildos?”

  “She sells them, Abby,” I corrected.

  “Pretty sure she likes them too,” she said with a grin, and I rolled my eyes. The last thing I needed was visuals of Alma and King Dongs, but Abby’d officially opened up the dam on painfully uncomfortable memories.

  “Anyway…she is Leo’s great-aunt.”

  “Seriously?” Her eyes widened as she kicked her legs up on my couch, crossed her ankles, and put her hands behind her head. “He’s the nephew she was low-key trying to set you up with?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Fuck.” She smirked. “I didn’t see that coming.”

  Yeah, my sentiments exactly.

  Startling me so much I jumped, my phone vibrated in my hands. Once I’d started talking to Abby, I’d almost completely forgotten I was in the middle of a conversation with Luscious Leo.

  Unknown: So…I know we’ve had a bit of a rocky start in terms of introductions, but I want to start fresh. Are you free tomorrow night?

  Me: Free? Are you asking me out on a date, Leonard?

  Unknown: I am. And now I’m also asking that you never speak my full name again.

  Me: LOL. In some weird way, I think it kind of suits you.

  Unknown: That’s the name of a middle-aged man who drives a minivan.

  Bingo. That had been exactly what I’d pictured when Alma had first told me about her nephew. In a rare moment of boldness, I told Leo just that.

  Me: You want to know a secret?

  Unknown: Of course.

  Me: When Alma told me about her “nephew Leonard,” I thought you were a fifty-year-old divorcée with a toupee.

  Unknown: Fucking hell.

  Me: LOL.

  Unknown: Horrible first names aside, will you go on a date with me tomorrow night, Gemma?

  Me: That depends.

  Unknown: On what?

  Truthfully? It depended on whether or not I could stop being such a scaredy cat or not. Not wanting to admit that to him, I made up a question that didn’t really matter.

  Me: What kind of date did you have in mind?

  Unknown: Honestly? I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I was too focused on simply getting you to say yes.

  “I know the perfect place for you guys,” Abby said, and I looked up to find her no longer on the couch, but standing beside me and reading my text messages.

  Jesus, she was like a little ninja.

  Instantly, I snatched my phone away from her eyes. “You really don’t understand personal boundaries, do you?”

  She ignored my question entirely. “Seriously, I know the perfect place for you guys. Great food, great music, and hands down, the best place for a first date.”

  Anything from Abby made me skeptical, but I needed the help. If I didn’t offer up her suggestion, I wouldn’t have anything else to say.

  With a wing and a prayer, I offered myself up to the Abby gods.

  Me: How about you pick me up tomorrow night at 7:30 p.m., and I’ll handle the rest?

  Unknown: Text me your address, and I’ll be there.

  I’d be here too. I’d also be scared to death.

  Handsome, charming, funny, and a freaking football god?r />
  Yeah, Leo was dream man material, and I, Gemma Holden, was about to have my chance at the dream.

  Freshly showered and fully dressed, I locked my front door and headed for my Durango. But just before I hopped inside, my phone vibrated in my pocket.

  I bobbled it in my hand as I slid into the driver’s seat and hit accept with my index finger by the third ring.

  “You shut down the Reddit thread?” Cam said by way of greeting into my ear.

  “What?” I questioned, pushing the key into the ignition and clicking the engine to life.

  “You shut down the Reddit thread,” he repeated, and I squinted my brow in confusion.

  “How’d you know that?” It’d been less than twenty-four hours since I’d put the kibosh on the online mystery girl search, and I’d been fairly certain I was the only one outside of internet trolls to remember it existed. Fuck, we’d been seven sheets to the wind when we created it.

  “Because I check that fucker daily.”

  “You’ve been following that thread?”

  “Are you kidding me?” he tossed out on a laugh. “That thread was gold. My sole source of online entertainment for the past two months.”

  Jesus Christ. So much for being too drunk that night to remember it.

  “What gives, man?” he questioned. “Why’d you have to take away our fun?”

  “Our fun?”

  He laughed again. “Sorry to break it to you, sweetheart, but half the damn team has been following that thread. Hell, even Wes Lancaster got a few good chuckles from it. After giving us a stern lecture about the guidelines for social media, of course.”

  “Wow,” I muttered. “Talk about music to my ears.”

  “Hey, if it makes you feel any better, when you get past all the laughs at your expense, we were all just rooting for you to find your girl.”

 

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