Page 15

Paige

E aston gets up from his comfortable position on the lounge chair, and my eyes drop to the sketchbook peeking out from underneath my recliner. I’d been contemplating sketching him next, purely by memory, and apparently that conjured him to reality because here he is, walking toward me.

The lady he was talking to calls out and he barely turns around, waving her off. From my position across the pool, I can just make out her features, but there’s something familiar about her, and since his sister is standing in front of me, it would be safe to guess it’s his mom. God, it’s one big family affair this week.

“So… before he gets here,”—Keeley waves a hand toward Easton with a bored expression, rolling her eyes as she lowers her voice—“I should tell you that we don’t usually promote our brother-sister relationship. Easton’s choice, not mine. Meaning…he’s likely to be pissy. But since you’re here, you’re in on the secret. It’s an exclusive club. You’ll love it.” She smiles at her joke and I have to stop myself from commenting, an image of a pissy Easton making me smile.

“Good to know,” I say just as Easton joins us, and I don’t miss the unimpressed expression he flashes Keeley’s way.

“Easton,”—Keeley claps her hands together, ignoring him—“this is Paige and Paige, this is Easton.” She officially introduces us and I once again bite my tongue. “Easton is one of Storm’s wide receivers. And my little brother. Well, you know…younger, anyway. He lives here, and I’m crashing his personal space so I can use the pool.”

Keeley turns to Easton expectantly and he rolls his eyes before offering a quick, “Hi.”

“That’s it?”

“What do you want me to say? You said it all. Should I mention what I had for lunch? Or my dinner plans?” He sneaks a glance my way and a smile tugs at my lips. I’m pretty sure he had me for lunch. Sort of. He may not have used his masterful mouth this time, but we were together around then.

And something about that makes me want to giggle. Secrets are fun. As long as they’re not hurting anyone.

Keeley smacks Easton’s arm, bringing me back to the present. “Don’t be a dick,” she snaps. “Just be nice.”

“I’m always nice,” he scoffs, his gruff tone turning me on before he’s even looked my way. . “Hi, I’m Easton.” He subtly raises a brow. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Hi, Easton.” I control my knowing smile. “I’m Paige. Daughter of your new owner. I live here too. And I skipped lunch. I was busy . I currently have no plans for dinner, and it’s nice to meet you too.”

Easton’s eyes widen, and I can tell his mind went exactly where I wanted it to go. If I have to think about it, about us, then so does he.

Keeley laughs at my comment and bumps shoulders with Easton, brushing her auburn hair away from her face. “Ooh, I like her. I bet you keep your dad on his toes.”

“I try.”

“You know the team is all talking about what your dad’s going to do,” she adds, making Easton groan.

“What the fuck, Keeley?”

“What?” She spins, hitting him with a glare. “Was that a secret?”

“No, but I don’t need that information coming from me.”

“It’s not coming from you ; it came from me.”

“I won’t say anything,” I cut in before they get into a sibling argument, while also trying not to think about the conversation I had with my dad and the issues with the team. “Believe it or not, I can keep secrets from my dad. I do it all the time,” I joke to hide the awkwardness I feel until I realize I’m not in fact joking at all. “I’m currently hiding a doozy.”

Easton’s face scrunches like my admission pains him, and I get it. I’m teasing. I too was enjoying our tryst and could have happily continued on. But life happens.

Keeley, who’s thankfully none the wiser, laughs. “Sounds like me.”

“Bullshit.” Easton scoffs. “Mom knows everything.”

“Mom, yes. Dad, no. Anyway.” Keeley turns to me and I notice Easton’s eyes flash to my body before I shift my gaze to smile back at her. “Sorry for interrupting your work,” she says, confusing me until I remember my sketchbook. “I just wanted to say hi.”

“Oh, I wasn’t… that wasn’t. It’s not a bother. It was really nice to meet you both.”

Keeley smiles, seemingly letting me get away with my little stumble of words, but Easton’s not so forgiving, eyeing me curiously before his gaze drops to my things. Sorry, East, but that’s not something I’m ever going to share.

“It was great to meet you too,” Keeley says, drawing Easton’s attention. “I guess we might see you around the stadium.”

“Yes, you might.”

“Enjoy the sunshine.” She waves as she walks away, and when her back is turned, Easton raises a brow, his thinned lips suppressing his expression.

“Nice meeting you, Paige.” He says my name slowly before nodding and starting to turn. “See you around.”

Like his sister, he waves as he leaves, and I can’t help but chance a quick glance at his ass. Such a shame he’s a football player. He could have been anyone else and it would have been fine.

Making myself comfortable again, I stretch out onto the recliner and close my eyes. I was going to use this time to sketch before meeting my dad, but I’ve never been opposed to relaxing, and what better place to do it than by a luxury pool in beautiful weather.

I sigh in contentment, but my bliss only lasts about thirty seconds before my mind drifts into dangerous territory.

To Easton.

As I lie still, my mind conjures up a vivid picture of him staring at me from across the water, his piercing blue eyes drinking me in. His throat bobbing as he swallows, imagining all the things he would do to me if we were alone. If our circumstances were different.

My legs squirm, but I hide it by pretending I’m repositioning myself as I internally curse. This isn’t me. I don’t fantasize about guys who give great orgasms. And yet…what I wouldn’t give for—

Someone splashes into the pool, and my eyes flash open to find Keeley in the water. And when I sneak a glance Easton’s way, his eyes are on me, exactly as I imagined. He shifts on his lounge, much like I did, and the movement draws my attention to his abs. Inappropriately, I wish I was over there with him, despite the fact that I’m pretty sure his mom is reading barely a stone’s throw away.

God, what is wrong with me?

There’s something about him that draws me in, and the fact that he’s now somewhat forbidden makes it even more alluring.

With his cap pulled low on his brow, Easton holds my stare until the woman shifts in the cabana beside his, breaking his trance.

Closing my eyes again, I bite back my smile as a buzzing energy runs through me.

On top of making me hot, he makes me giddy, and that’s a dangerous combination.

I’m not sure how long I lie still while my mind whirs with image after image of Easton, but when it feels like a reasonable amount of time has passed for me to leave, I jump up and grab my things, in desperate need of a cold shower.

What is this man doing to me?

I make it to the bar where I’m meeting my dad at six fifty, twenty minutes later than planned, but surprisingly he doesn’t call me out.

“Hi, Sweetie.” He smiles, standing up as I walk over. “How was your day?” He presses a kiss to my head before pulling a chair out for me to sit down, and it gets me thinking…

“Do you ever date?”

“What?” He chokes as I burst out laughing. “Where did that come from?”

“You pulled out my chair, so I wondered.”

“It’s how I was brought up. Sorry for being a decent man.” He shrugs, a little embarrassed, and my brows furrow.

“Did I hit a nerve? Are you hiding something from me?” It would be good if he was, because then we’d be even.

“I’m hiding plenty.” He grins comically, making me laugh out loud again. “But rest assured none of it concerns you.”

“Good. Likewise.”

His eyes narrow but he laughs.

“So why am I here?” I ask, changing the subject.

“I wanted to see my daughter.”

“You saw me two days ago for take-your-daughter-to-work day.”

“Okay. You caught me.” He raises his hands in the air. “I want you to work with me and the team.”

Now it’s my turn to choke. “You want me to what now?” My voice rises and my lips part in surprise. I did not see that coming.

Dad chuckles while simultaneously rolling his eyes at my overexaggerated response. A response that would make more sense to him if he knew I’d been fucking his star wide receiver. Past tense, of course.

“I want you to come and work with me,” he repeats. “On a charity event with the team.” He tries to explain further but it doesn’t sound any more appealing the second time I hear it, especially now that he’s added more detail.

I can’t help but frown and he laughs again. “Do you need me to write it down?”

“Very funny. Who are you and what have you done with my ‘I want you to stay away from the players’ father?”

“Now who’s being funny? I’m still me. I’m asking you to spend time with the guys in a professional capacity, not jump into bed with one.”

I burst out laughing, sounding just as guilty as I feel, and Dad notices.

“I can trust you, right?”

“Yes.” I roll my eyes again because it’s what we do when the other is acting crazy. Not that he is, but it’s best if I make the idea appear insane. “I have no plans to ‘jump into bed’ with anyone on your team. That’s not my thing.” I smile as a fine layer of guilt seeps into my chest. While it’s not exactly a lie—Easton and I usually get creative with other surfaces—it’s still a huge misrepresentation of the truth. But really, how am I supposed to answer that?

Dad smiles and I’m relieved to see it’s genuine. “Good,” he says as he pats my hand. “Then this couldn’t be more perfect. After the controversy surrounding the TV show, the event I have in mind will bank us some goodwill and positive vibes, plus it will keep you busy.”

“Why do you think I need to be kept busy?”

“Because, Paige, I’m your father. And despite the fact that we haven’t been that close since the divorce, I know you.”

“That may be true, but I haven’t exactly been curled up on my couch with nothing to do. I’ve been working. I’ve already had two photo shoots since I arrived and—”

“Please don’t remind me of your photo shoots.” He groans, making me laugh. “You know I’d never hold you back from anything, but there are some things a dad should never see.”

“Right back at you, Daddio. Or are you forgetting I saw you half-naked on the cover of that sports magazine.”

“I was twenty and your mom showed it to you. You didn’t come across it while out shopping for food.”

“A chest is a chest.”

“Okay. You win. What was the other thing you were going to say?”

“Oh. I’ve offered to help out the California office of the charity I was working with in New York. We’re planning a ball to raise money for youth services.”

Dad’s eyes widen. “You are going to be busy.”

“Told you. There really isn’t time for me to—”

“Please.”

“Ugh.” I throw my head back and fake a groan. At least, I make Dad believe that it’s fake when in reality, it’s as real as they get. How am I supposed to work with the players and not make it obvious that I’m imagining Easton’s face between my legs? “Okay. If you really need my help, I’ll do it. But don’t blame me if some of the guys try to get in my pants. It’s your fault I’m attractive; I got my genes from you.”

Dad half laughs, half coughs, and I consider that a win. “You may get your looks from me, but you definitely get your confidence from your mother.”

“I know. Remind me to thank her.” Especially considering it was that confidence that led me to strip naked for a stranger and look at what that got me—incredible sex with a football star. Thanks, Mom.

“I’ve set up a board meeting to introduce the D’Angelo Foundation to the team this week,” Dad continues, bringing me back to the conversation. “I want you there to pitch some ideas for the event.”

“This week? Nothing like throwing me into the deep end before I can swim.”

“What are you talking about? You do this all the time. Reuse your old ideas if you have to. They’ve been done in New York but not here.”

“I’m sure everything has been done here,” I mumble under my breath. I’ve worked with lots of different charities, and celebrities for that matter, but I’ve never worked with sports stars. I tend to stick with companies that align with my personal interests. Although, one could argue that I now have an interest in football.

“Thanks again.” Dad ignores my comment and moves on, telling me more about the drama at his New York office, and when his phone rings sometime later, he cringes. “Shit, I lost track of time. I have to go. Are you free for dinner Tuesday night?”

Now this is the dad I remember. Having to leave midconversation. Although, I’ve got to admit, he’s doing it a lot less these days, and this was a last-minute thing. It’s not like he walked out on a dinner. “Tuesday? Sure. It’s a date.”

After pressing another kiss to my forehead, Dad rushes off. He got what he wanted while I’m left staring at the door he raced out of, wondering what the hell I just got myself into. Easton and I may have come to terms with the fact that I’m the daughter of his team’s new owner, but working closely with his team is another hurdle entirely.