When Lyric glares at his brother, River’s eyes widen, and he starts edging toward the door. Behind me, Rowan growls.
“You lied,” he accuses.
Phoenix hurries to stand in front of River. “It’s been more than a decade. There’s no reason to pound River’s head into the floor for a prank he played when he was a teenager.”
“Thanks for giving him the idea,” River mutters from behind him.
“Prank? We lost the championship,” Rowan grumbles and starts to stand.
I jump on his lap to stop him from moving. “No bloodshed on game day. I don’t clean bloodstains.”
“Another thing she doesn’t clean,” Juniper mutters. “You should probably hire a maid before it’s too late.”
I glare at her. Rowan and I haven’t agreed to live together yet. She knows I’m worried about what’s going to happen when my boot comes off. Does he expect me to move home? It’s awful early to live together, but we’ve spent every night together since Sandra left town a few days ago.
“Give it a rest,” Lyric says and brings me out of my reverie. “You won enough championships playing college ball and you have a Super Bowl ring. What difference does it make now anyway?”
“I don’t know why everyone’s getting their panties in a twist,” Bryan argues as he watches the drama.
As one, the men rivet their attention on him and shout, “It’s football!”
“In case anyone cares, it’s kick-off,” Lilac announces.
She said the magic words. The testosterone in the room drops and the men settle back into their seats to watch the game.
“They stop the clock an awful lot,” Mom says a few minutes later, and Dad grunts in agreement. He’s a football fan. As in the ‘real’ football the whole world plays. I’ve tried to tell him the world plays soccer, but he refuses to listen.
Bryan groans. “No. Stop. No talk of the clock. I can’t bear it.”
“Clock management is an essential element of offensive team tactics,” Rowan says.
“Uh oh. He’s gearing up for a lecture.” Bryan sighs and stands. “Who wants another drink?”
“Do you not like football?” I ask him.
He shrugs. “It’s okay, I guess.”
My brow wrinkles in confusion. “But weren’t you Rowan’s personal assistant when he played professionally?”
“And a damn fine assistant I was, too.”
My gaze whips back and forth between Rowan and Bryan. “I’m confused.”
Rowan grunts.
“Saying it’s not a big deal isn’t an explanation,” I tell him.
“Good luck there, girlie,” Bryan chuckles. “Someone believes grunting is an answer to every question in existence.”
“I’m serious.” I pinch Rowan’s side. “Why did you hire Bryan to be your PA if he doesn’t like football?”
He leans down to whisper in my ear. “Because he’s my friend and I trust him.”
I melt him to him. “You’re a good man, Rowan Aries.”
“My job here is finished,” Aspen declares with a big ‘ol smile on her face.
Her job? She’s not the one who worked through Rowan’s issues about making a woman happy with him. Not unless— No! I refuse to believe it. There’s no way Aspen contacted Sandra and asked her to come to town. She wouldn’t be so cruel.
Only when I notice the out of this word smirk on my big sister’s face, I’m not as sure. I narrow my eyes at her, and she flutters her lashes like some innocent young thing. Innocent my ass.