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Me: Shit, I’ll eat the muffin off your muffin, baby girl. If it has to do with you, I want it.
I watch as a flush creeps along her neck and up her cheeks as her grin grows.
Clara: Not to assume, but I think you might like me, Coach, Sir, Man Guy.
I grin, licking my lips.
Me: Good assumption.
I look back over at her, but she’s not grinning like I thought she would be. Instead, she’s got her arms around Gavin Hepworth. He hugs her tightly, grinning from ear to ear as they part, and he looks down at her with pure adoration in his eyes. She greets him with a smile that belongs to me, and my fucking jaw goes tight. I have no right to walk over there and knock my fist into his perfect smile, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to. How dare he look at my girl?
Your girl?
Dammit to hell, what is happening to me?
I narrow my eyes as they continue to talk. She’s moving her hands a lot, but I can’t hear what either of them is saying because it’s so loud in here.
“Coach?”
I look up to see my coffee is waiting for me. With a nod of thanks, I grab it and then look back at where Clara and Gavin are standing. If I’m honest with myself, she looks good with him. He’s all light like she is, kind, and he’d be good for her. He’s only a year older than her, and I bet she wouldn’t call him Grandpa like she does me.
She definitely wouldn’t call him Daddy.
No, that’s only for me.
I don’t want her with him. I want her with me.
Clara is mine.
She must feel me staring at her because her eyes move to me, and gone is the sweet girl who was looking up at him. Instead, my feral little baby girl is looking only at me. Her lips part, her eyes go hooded, and then she is giving me that sinful grin that I want to be the last thing I see before I die. Fuck, she’s gorgeous. She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip, and pure defiance plays on her face.
She is going to be my downfall.
She lifts her hand, batting those sweet lashes up at Gavin as she places the hand that belongs on me against his chest. It’s only for the briefest of seconds, but it gets my blood rushing through my body. She wiggles her hips, grinning up at him in a way that’s so damn saccharine, I want to throttle her. When she lets out a breathy little sigh of, “Oh Gavin, stop! I’m related to Alex now. I have to say he’s the best goalie!”
I see red, but I don’t react.
No. That’s what my little minx wants.
She wants me to lose my cool, but I’m not going to give it to her.
She wants to fuck with me? Well, I can fuck with her.
I lick my lips as I run my hand down my beard before dropping it into my pocket. Her eyes trace the movement and even stay on me as I take a long pull of my coffee. We lock eyes, and I dare her to touch him again. She doesn’t, thank God, but when she turns to place an order, Gavin leans into her side, saying, “Just put hers with mine.”
Without hesitation, I walk toward them as I say, “And I’ll pay for them both.”
Gavin and Clara look up as I hand the cashier my card. Clara smiles as Gavin sputters, “Oh. Hey, Coach! Thanks.”
“No problem.” Clara’s eyes don’t leave mine. She orders three pomegranate-orange muffins and a smoothie, while he orders who the hell knows what. I don’t even see him. All I see are her doe eyes and that mouth that is all curved up for me.
Not him. Me.
“Hi, Coach McCoy.”
“Miss McDavid.”
Her eyes flutter with trouble, and I can’t help but chuckle at her antics. She’s a damn brat if I’ve ever seen one. She licks her pouty lips as she closes the distance to me and the counter where the orders are delivered. She stands between Gavin and me, her legs crossed at the ankles as she plays with the hem of her skirt, looking all innocent and fucking delectable.
