AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He angles his body as if he’s going to drive his point home, and my heart hammers in my chest in a Pavlovian response to the anticipation of any sort of Ian’s touch.
“Ian!”
Our heads turn to spot the small woman waving wildly from the entry, her face lit up and her silvery hair bouncing behind her in a long braid. The man behind her looks decidedly less friendly, his sharp features hardened and his frown practically etched in.
Jesus, he looks so much like Ian.
It’s the first thought that hits me, but even as I think it, I immediately question whether or not that’s true. Sure, there can be no doubt that Ian is Bradley Chase’s son with their matching hair and builds and similar features—but there’s a coldness to Bradley. Something opposite of the warmth Ian radiates. He must get that from his mom.
Ian’s mother reaches us and throws her arms around her son’s waist, beaming up at him. “Oh, honey. I am so glad you’re here! I have so missed seeing you play at these.”
“Mom,” Ian greets fondly, wrapping his arms around her shoulders to give her a squeeze. “Glad you could make it.”
“Well, it wouldn’t do for the owners to stand up their own event, now would it?”
Bradley’s tone is just as chilly as his expression, and I can’t help but wonder what Christine sees in him.
The woman in question smacks her husband’s chest. “Oh, don’t start. There will be no sniping from either of you today, got it?”
“Delilah.” Bradley regards me curtly. “So nice of you to host the event.”
“It was mostly Jack’s doing,” I tell him as politely as I can manage. “But I was all for it, of course. The kids don’t have a lot to look forward to.”
Christine reaches to squeeze my hand. “It really is so lovely. All the work you’ve been doing here.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” I reply with a lot more warmth than I afforded Bradley.
Christine waves me off. “Oh, none of that. I mean”—she winks at me—“you are dating my son.”
“Christine,” Bradley says tersely. “You know that’s just for show.”
“Mhm.” Ian’s mother looks coy, shrugging. “I guess an old woman can dream, can’t she?” She places her hand on Bradley’s forearm, glancing at him with a fond expression. “My romance with Ian’s father was such a whirlwind—” She gives me a pointed look. “I mean, the owner’s daughter and the star player? It was the talk of the town for such a long time. I’ve always wanted that kind of love for my son.”
Yuck. If she only knew.
Bradley looks unaffected by her reminiscing, but Ian looks tense. I can see the muscle in his jaw ticking, and I wind my arm around his waist, giving him a subtle squeeze of encouragement. That seems to snap him out of his reverie.
“You should probably make your way up there,” Ian says, looking only at his mother as he does his best to ignore Bradley completely. “The game will be starting soon.”
“I’d like to speak with you after,” Bradley says pointedly.
Ian barely spares him a glance. “I have plans after. I will call you when I can.”
I can tell that his father would like to say more, but Christine is already tugging on his arm. “Come, come, let’s get our seats before we’re hounded by some reporter you’ll have to schmooze.” She pauses to press on her toes, kissing Ian’s cheek. “Good luck out there.”
“Thanks, Mom,” he murmurs back.
We watch as she pulls Bradley toward the risers, and despite her best efforts, they are stopped by what seems to be a reporter, Bradley’s entire demeanor changing as he dusts off a megawatt smile that feels forced. Or maybe that’s just me.
“God, look at him,” Ian grumbles. “I bet he’s telling them all about all the ‘good work’ he does. As if this was even his idea.” He rolls his eyes. “This game was always my mom’s baby.”
“He really knows how to turn it on for the press,” I notice.
“Yes,” Ian agrees. “He’s very good at faking being a good person.”
I can sense the slight air of defeat in his tone, and I know that he’s allowing himself to be dragged down in memories, ones that will do nothing but threaten to ruin this day for him. I have every intention of leaning in to tell him exactly what I think of Bradley Chase and give him a much better occupant for his thoughts, me mainly, but before I can even open my mouth to speak, I feel strong, thick arms circling my waist, picking me clear off the floor as I yelp in surprise.
“Little Dee!” I’m spun around, feeling disoriented for a second before I’m plopped back onto my feet. “What’s up, Baker?”
