The Trouble With Quarterbacks
Page 30
I shrug, remembering the zero new matches waiting for me on my dating apps. I guess I’ll have to take her word for it.
We pause in the kitchen for wine, and I can see most of their guests clustered out back on their wraparound porch. Surprisingly, it’s a nice evening in Texas—not too hot, and the mosquitos have yet to invade for the summer. Everyone is sipping wine or beer and sort of hovering around in clusters. As far as parties go, this is extremely tame.
“No beer pong? No kegs?” I ask as Daisy pours me a glass of chilled white wine, my favorite.
She levels me with a glare. “Your brother wanted a low-key housewarming party.”
“Yeah, about that—is it still considered a housewarming party if you guys have already lived here for six months?”
She shrugs as she finishes pouring herself a glass. “It’s taken us that long just to furnish the place, so yes, it counts.”
I nod and take in my surroundings. Their house is beautiful, one of the older Victorian-style houses that line the streets of downtown Hamilton. It was recently restored, but the original wood floors were left intact. Their dark stain juxtaposed with the white marble countertops and modern light fixtures make the home feel updated and fresh. In short, I’d cut off my right arm to own a house like this.
Honestly, I can’t believe it’s been six months since I sold it to them. I cringe thinking of how little of that commission check is left. I used a large chunk of it to pay off the last of my student loans, and I put some of it in savings. The rest might as well have floated away like sand for all the good it did me. A couple months of rent and I’m right back where I started: in desperate need of a new client, one who isn’t Mr. Boggs.
“Ready to head outside?” Daisy asks me, her tone a little gentler than usual. She can probably sense I’ve had a hard day at work. There’s no need to ramble on about Lori and the rest of her minions; Daisy has heard it all before, and she sympathizes as much as she can. She and Lucas own their own family practice and have the luxury of being their own bosses. I’ve daydreamed about quitting the agency and going to work for them, but working as an office coordinator in a small doctor’s office doesn’t really interest me. Besides, I like real estate, even if I’m not very good at it.
We head outside and Daisy sticks close to me as I nod to the guests I know, which is a good portion of them. Most of them are classmates I’ve kept in touch with over the years. In a small town, it’s kind of impossible not to, especially with the assistance of Facebook. Susie Mathers is sitting on a rocking chair a few feet away with her feet up on a cooler as a makeshift ottoman—she’s nine months pregnant and about ready to pop. Her husband, Dale, stands just to her left chatting with friends, and all the while, his hand sits on her shoulder. It’s a sweet gesture, and it makes me guzzle my wine faster than I should.
I’m about to go refill my glass when Daisy yanks on my arm. “There’s the guy!” she whispers. “Over there talking to your brother.”
It’s not hard to find Lucas. He’s hovering on the porch stairs with a small group of guys, and I recognize all of them except the one with his back turned to me. He’s wearing jeans and a black t-shirt. I tilt my head in his direction and Daisy nods in confirmation.
I narrow my eyes, trying to assess as much of him as possible from the back. His dark brown hair is mussed up and cute. His arms are toned, and though I don’t think I’ve ever really been the type to notice, he has a great ass. Still, I highly doubt he’s new to town. Daisy has steered me wrong too many times in the past.
Lucas sees us standing in the doorway staring and waves us over. The stranger turns and follows his gaze, and I have my answer.
My eyes widen in shock.
Oh, I know him all right.
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Acknowledgments
Thank you to all my readers, especially the Little Reds. I know there are so many books to choose from these days, and I don’t take it for granted that you all chose to spend a day or two reading mine.
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XO, Rachel