Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
“David Larsen. I’m gonna be the bestest player in the NBA. Even better than you were.”
He crouched beside the towheaded child. “That’s a lot of work. You sure you’re up to it?”
The boy nodded eagerly. “I am. And I’m going to get a bootiful wife like you had. But I’m going to keeps her.”
“David, enough.” His father stepped in and picked up his son. “I’m sorry, Mr. Anderson. He doesn’t know what he’s saying.”
He really needed to meditate. “It’s fine. You listen to your father, David, and practice hard. Eat all those vegetables and you may get your wish.”
“Would you come to my first game?”
How like a kid not to focus on the dagger he’d shoved into Mitchell’s chest with his off-the-cuff, cavalier comment about not keeping his wife.
Not that he had wanted to keep her, but still.
Ex-wife. Making sure his smile didn’t slip, he nodded. “You get there and I’ll be there, cheering next to your father.”
“Can I have a signed jersey?” The boy sniffed. “I’ll give you one of mine when I have my number.”
“I don’t have any with me, but I’ll get your address from your father and send you one.”
David wriggled until his father put him back on the floor. Grasping one of Mitchell’s hands, he held it tight. “I don’t care if my daddy thinks you suck and he’s glad you no longer play. You are still my favorite. Until I get in the league.” He waved and dashed off.
Mr. Larsen flushed a deep red and took off after his son. Those around them watched him for his reaction. It was the snort from behind him that made him turn to find Hope with her hand slapped over her mouth.
The rest of the room fell away as he walked to stand before her. “Something amusing, Hope?”
She shook her head but her eyes betrayed her continued amusement. “I think it’s our turn to get some food.”
Raking his gaze over her, head to foot, he shrugged. “By all means, lead the way, Flykra.”
Chapter Four
Sides aching from laughing so hard, Hope stepped away from the game and made her way to the drinks and snacks table. The generators were up and running. However, based on what she’d heard, the storm was picking up again so they weren’t going anywhere soon.
Not that she minded. If she had to be stranded in the northeast in a blizzard, she’d picked a great place for that to happen. Were things a bit more awkward now that she had confirmation that she was sharing not only a room but also a bed with ex-NBA star Mitchell Anderson? Yes, so much yes.
But the man didn’t seem bothered by anything going on around him. He checked on her, brought her food and drinks. Asked her how she was feeling.
Not at all what she was expecting.
Then again, I’ve never met an NBA player before. At least, not that she knew of.
She limped to the loveseat near the fire and carefully lowered herself to the cushion. Her body hurt. A lot. Why, she wasn’t sure, but it did and her head wasn’t feeling the best either. Sipping the tea, she closed her eyes and listened to the sound of laughter around her. The mixer was still going on, even with the others who had stopped by to ride out the storm. All were adults except for David.
As it was a singles mixer, they had purposefully not allowed people with children here, however, with the onslaught of the blizzard—whatever the winter storm name for it was—it had been necessary. Hope approved of Naomi allowing them to stay here.
Her thoughts drifted to work and how similar these men were to animals in the wild. Sometimes it was easy to forget that humans were, at their core, animals as well. They were circling one another, polite, yes, but there was that hint of bravado and preening too.
Being here was so different from her last assignment. She’d been traipsing through the Mindo Cloud Forest in Ecuador in search of a rare bird for a conservation story. The two others with her hadn’t behaved like the guys here. They were all about staying safe. There was a lot less conversation as well, and what they’d had, was quieter. She understood animals much better than human males and it had been much warmer than winter in Vermont.
“You okay?”
Opening her eyes at the question, Hope saw Alistair claim the chair on the other side of the fireplace from her.
“Tired.”
He grinned. “I’m sure. Can’t imagine you’re getting a lot of sleep.”
She frowned. “Why not?”
The man shrugged and looked a bit sheepish. “I thought there was something between you and the ball player.”
Only in my dreams. Dreams which were beginning to happen even when she was wide awake. “Nope.” And what was with the way he’d said “ball player”? Did he know something she should?