Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 92167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
…
“This entire place is impressive.” Mr. Stevenson smiled as he looked around the room they were in.
Emma had been excited to take the tour as well since she’d not seen the entire facility. Did it hurt that Linc continually found time to touch her and send her tender looks? Nope, not at all.
After Greer interrupted them this morning, she’d been embarrassed, but Linc had driven them both and right now Greer was out playing baseball while she was learning the ropes as his assistant.
And fiancée.
The young girl who’d been doing the job was still in reception but she wasn’t Linc’s anymore. She handled other things, leaving Emma to manage his schedule.
It didn’t escape her notice how young Mr. Stevenson’s wife was. Hell, the woman was damn near her age, perhaps younger. And she was all about being near Linc.
Possessiveness was an ugly bitch and Emma kept hers on a short leash. Even though she wanted to snap at the other woman and remind her that she was married, so leave Linc alone.
“It is, I’m so proud of him. Well, the entire town is proud of him for opening up this place.” She looked around at all the art supplies that were in this room.
“Do you know who wrote his proposal? Or was that you?”
Cutting her gaze over to where Linc stood across the room, Mrs. Stevenson hovering close, too close, she exhaled and faced the man before her.
Anger that she’d felt this morning when he’d mentioned being the wrong color and just a sports person churned inside her. She didn’t like the implication. Not at all. “I’m not sure why you think Linc didn’t write that, Mr. Stevenson. This center, it’s his baby. The passion you read in the proposal, even though it was just a proposal, was because it came from him. It had his heart and his desire for this place pulsing through it. Linc doesn’t need others to construct a proposal for him because it’s his desire you read in those words and a third party would have made it far more clinical. My fiancé is more than a retired professional baseball player, he’s extremely intelligent and very capable.”
The man stared at her and she winced inwardly, not sure if she’d suddenly overstepped and cost the center the money.
He stroked a hand over his moustache. “You are extremely protective of him.”
“I’m protective of everyone I care about, Mr. Stevenson.”
A slow nod came, the waxed moustache and large hat barely moving. “I can see that. And I apologize. I shouldn’t have assumed he wasn’t able to do that himself. I hope he didn’t feel that’s what I meant.”
“I won’t speak for him but perhaps you should tell him.”
The doors opened and a group of kids thundered in, slowing to say hi to Linc and the rest of the coaches before vanishing.
“There’s a basketball game about to start if you would like to look at the gym,” Linc said. “I have to check on one thing and I’ll be right in. Emma, could you show them the way?”
“Of course.” This she could do. “If you both will follow me.” She headed off down the hall, not liking how out of place Mrs. Stevenson made her feel. Like high school all over again where she wasn’t part of the popular crowd.
She took a deep breath before opening the door to the court.
Thankfully, Mitchell was in the gym and came over. The man was smooth and had a way of charming people, so she didn’t have to come up with witty conversation. It wasn’t just Linc Mrs. Stevenson flirted with—she was doing the same thing to Mitchell. The man barely blinked in her direction.
“Miss Emma!”
She looked over at the group. “Yes?”
The kids beckoned her and she walked onto the court, grateful at least to have tennis shoes on instead of pumps.
“We need another. Mitchell said we should ask you.”
“He did?” It took so much for her not to look over her shoulder and glare at the ex-pro player.
The boys nodded. “Said you could fill in for him for a bit.”
She pursed her lips. “And you boys didn’t think this was a bad idea? I mean, I’m like half his height, he played professionally, and what is the other thing?” She tapped her fingers along her lips. “Oh, right, I’ve never played basketball.”
They all smiled. “Time to learn,” the one with the ball said, spinning it on his index finger, the lone digit not even wavering as the ball continued to move smoothly on it. How the hell is he doing that?
Time to learn.
Glancing over her shoulder, she wanted nothing more than to flip off the man who smirked at her, his shaggy blond hair not hiding his amusement in the slightest. Mitchell Anderson was someone she couldn’t quite figure out. Again, she knew him from what she’d heard around town and from watching him grow up, but there were more secrets in that man than met the eye. And now he was pushing her out of her comfort zone. Then again, everything about this situation was out of her comfort zone.