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The thought of Mackenzie with Ivy’s mom brings everything back into focus. I take a breath and brace my palms on the bar. “Listen, there’s something I need to tell you.”
“Ivy already told me.” His mouth twists. “Via text.”
At my incredulous face, he hands over his phone. I read the text out loud. “‘Gray and I are together now. Don’t be pissy with him. It’s serious. And I’m happy.’”
Laughing low, I rub a hand over my face and give him back his phone. “Little wuss,” I mutter under my breath.
But apparently not low enough, because Mackenzie gives me a look. “Here’s a tip. My daughter likes to cut and run when she’s overwhelmed.”
“Already figured that one out.” Ivy and I are similar that way.
Mackenzie grunts. “You shouldn’t have touched her, Grayson. You know better.”
So, Ivy gets her directness from her dad. Good to know. I straighten my shoulders and turn to fully face him. “Well, this is awkward.”
Mackenzie snorts as if to say, No shit, kid.
I take a quick drink of my ice water before forging on. “The part of me that’s talking to Ivy’s dad says I respectfully understand your fears, sir, but I assure you hurting Ivy is the very last thing I’d ever do.” My grip on my glass tightens. “The part of me that sees you as a potential agent wants to tell you to fuck off.”
He laughs outright. “Then we’re of a like mind, kid. Because part of me wants to kick your ass for even looking my daughter. And the other part wants to warn you to keep away from distractions. Namely of the female variety.”
Female variety. I want to roll my eyes. But he’s not saying anything new. “I love her.” He snorts again, and I give him a hard look. “You might as well hear it from me. I put a ring on her finger. We’re engaged to be engaged.”
Slowly Mackenzie lowers his glass and looks at me. His rough features are worn, pale. “Engaged to be engaged? What the hell does that mean?”
“Ivy’s words. The point is, I want to marry Ivy. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Are you insane? Kid, marriage is the last thing you need at this point in your career.”
I figure now is not the time to tell him Ivy’s pregnant. Plus, if we end up giving that news, it will be together. No way is Ivy wriggling out of it with a text.
“I know you think I’m like you,” I say in a low voice. “But I’m not.” And I really don’t give a shit that he’s now glaring murder at me. I continue without blinking. “Nothing on earth makes me happier than Ivy. And that includes football. So you can be pissed if you want, but I’m never going to be the one to walk out on Ivy.”
We sit locked in silence, the noise of the bar humming around us. Then Mackenzie sighs. “Well, then, if I was your agent, I’d advise that you keep your fiancée out of the spotlight as much as possible. I’d also advise that you play up your image as a family man, which will be difficult given your outer persona.”
“Outer persona?” I ask with a laugh.
“Shit.” He grimaces. “Don’t make me say it. Your looks, kid. Women go crazy over guys like you. They’ll view you as a sex symbol.” His mouth puckers like he’s sucked a lemon, and I laugh again.
“Fair enough,” I say. “And as my father-in-law?” I’m playing with fire, but I can’t help needling him.
His black brows pull together. “Ah, fuck, I’m stuck with your regardless, aren’t I?”
“’Fraid so, Big Mac.”
Grumbling, he throws back the rest of his whiskey. “Well, then, welcome to the family, kid.” In an unexpected move, he grabs hold of the back of my neck and gives it a friendly squeeze. At least, I hope it’s friendly.
Thirty
Gray
Shortly after I leave Mackenzie at the bar, Ivy texts me.
IvyMac: I’m here. Dex already sent your stuff up to my room, btw.
GrayG: Wait, DEX got to see you before I did? Foul! Personal foul!
IvyMac: *Eye roll* That just means we don’t have to leave the room when you get here, Cupcake.
GrayG: Keep talking…
IvyMac: I splurged on a suite.
GrayG: A suite? Babe, that’s too much.
IvyMac: It’s a treat.
GrayG: An expensive treat.
IvyMac: I collected wages when I worked with Mom. Now I want to spend them pampering my man.
GrayG: Pampering, eh? You’re forgiven for Dex. Now, where you at, Ivy Mac?
IvyMac: SO glad I’m forgiven. :-P 12th floor. Rm. 1210
GrayG: Spooky. My room number is 1184.
IvyMac: Erm… why is that spooky?
GrayG: 1184 and 1210 are amicable numbers :)
IvyMac: I love it when you talk nerd. So sexy.
Hitting the elevator button, I grin wide and tap out my next message.
GrayG: Almost there. Be naked.
IvyMac: Bossy.
GrayG: If you could start playing with yourself, get nice and wet for me, that’d be good too. ;-)
Snickering, I tuck my phone into my pocket without waiting for her reply. By the time the elevator coasts to the twelfth floor, my dick is already throbbing.
The door to suite 1210 is open a crack, and I smile, knowing Ivy left it that way for me. Heat and pounding need has my skin too tight for my body. I’m practically panting as I walk in, my heart thudding in time to my hard, quick steps.
Standing in the middle of the small living room is Ivy, wearing an oversized red T-shirt—and nothing else. I pause, take in the sight of her long, smooth legs, the way the shirt falls off one toned shoulder. White lettering across her breasts states, If you can’t handle my Tight End, you need a stronger D.