“Hi, friend!” Bentley almost yelled. “You’re pretty. You watch lacrosse with us?”
Emery looked from Bentley to Greer. He gave her an encouraging nod.
“I’d love to,” she said.
“Chandler’s game is onrightnow,” Bentley informed her, hurrying over to plop down on the leather wraparound sofa.
Greer studied her as if discerning if she was all right. She smiled to reassure him, though she worried who Bentley would tell about a woman being at Greer’s house. From all she’d come to learn about Greer this week, he wasn’t a womanizer. She didn’t know if he’d ever had a girlfriend. It would definitely stun his family to know a woman was with him.
“Come on,” Bentley begged. “Turn it on.” He patted the cushion next to him. “Sit by me, pretty friend.”
Emery smiled. It didn’t appear Bentley was dangerous. She and Greer turned toward the couch and Greer put his hand on her lower back. She startled as warmth spread through her. He was choosing to touch her, and she wasn’t about to complain. He walked her to the couch, and she sat by Bentley. Greer settled on her other side. He turned on the game and Bentley started talking. He pointed out Chandler, number eighty-three. He explained rules to her when needed, cheered almost nonstop, usually happy cheers, but sometimes groaning if Chandler and his teammates weren’t possessing the ball like Bentley wanted. At halftime, he demanded popcorn and drinks.
Greer gestured for her to stay seated, then made the popcorn and brought them all drinks. Bentley chatted with her about snow skiing throughout the break. Apparently he was the fastest skier in the valley.
Emery hadn’t seen lacrosse before and she really enjoyed the fast-paced game, especially with Greer’s brother being such a superstar and involved in a lot of the action. She also enjoyed Bentley. He was friendly, childlike, loud, and fun. It warmed her heart how much he seemed to love Greer and how good Greer was to him.
It hit her how welcoming and nonjudgmental Greer was. She’d felt nothing but kindness from him and obviously Bentley felt the same. It shocked her that his family and other friends didn’t come by regularly simply to soak up the peace that was Greer Delta. She could almost bet he’d warned them all away because she was here.
It was in the fourth quarter when Bentley pushed her against Greer and said, “I thought youfriends. You should hug.”
Emery flushed from embarrassment but also from the length of Greer’s firm body suddenly pressing against her. She didn’t know how he’d react, but he shocked her completely when he slid his arm around her shoulders and drew her closer.
She gasped in surprise and felt Greer stiffen.
“Sorry,” he murmured as he started to release her.
“Greer Delta,” she whispered fiercely into his ear. “You let me go and I’ll fracture your arm.”
Greer chuckled in surprise. He stared down at her and asked, “You’re okay?”
“Better than okay. Surpassing okay by miles.” She tucked her feet up underneath her and leaned into him. Her right arm was trapped, but she slid her left hand across his taut abdomen and rested it on the firm muscles of his chest.
He sucked in a breath and his blue eyes were full of her as she glanced up at him.
“You’re okay?” she asked.
He only nodded, but his gaze was warm and his touch was even warmer.
“And Chandler gets another assist!” Bentley screamed over the commentators. They refocused on the game in time to see the replay of Chandler passing the ball quickly to a teammate who popped it into the goal.
“He’s the best!” Bentley crowed.
The rest of the game was a blur to Emery. All she could focus on was the pressure of Greer’s arm around her, his warm palm on her upper arm, their bodies pressed together, and her hand touching his chest. Crazy that they’d been alone for over a week and their most intimate moment, besides after her nightmares, came when his friend was sitting on her other side cheering raucously for the lacrosse game.
As soon as the game finished, Bentley jumped up and said, “You drive me home?”
“How did you get here?” Emery asked.
“My brother, Jace. Good guy. Almost skis as fast as me. Like Greer. Good guy.” He lowered his voice. “But Greernotthe best skier.”
Emery laughed.
Greer smiled down at her. “I’m not,” he admitted.
Emery stared at him and whispered, “Don’t tell Bentley, but I couldn’t care less about your skiing abilities. You have many, many more important qualities.”
He grinned. Their faces were so close they could’ve leaned in a fraction and kissed. She wanted to kiss him. He was a good guy. A great guy. The best she’d ever known. Knowing that this innocent man, Bentley, shared her opinion of Greer being a good guy not only warmed her heart but reassured her. This man could not have killed her brother.