Home > Halftime Husband(3)

Halftime Husband(3)
Author: Erin McCarthy

I’d kept my mouth shut to the guys on the team at the time when I found out. Then when Dante had been traded postseason, and without any way to get in touch with Dakota, it had all seemed like a closed chapter.

But now that I knew she hadn’t spoken to him, and I was no longer his head coach, there was nothing in the way of me getting to know her better. A lot better. Naked better. Damn, she was fucking hot.

I watched her walking toward me, tall, confident, toned body, full tits. Even with mascara and tears running down her face, she’d been gorgeous. As she got closer, I saw she had washed her face free of the martini and the makeup. She had beautiful rich brown eyes and high cheekbones. Her blond hair looked like silk. She didn’t have the waves in it she’d had the first night we met, but both styles were equally sexy.

And that dress. It showed off her waist, and those incredibly long legs. That slit was a total tease. One false move and I would get to see everything she had and then some. I wanted to unzip that dress and watch it fall to my bedroom floor.

Except that my daughters were at home with their nanny.

That was a problem.

But I was getting ahead of myself anyway. I held out the glass of champagne for her. “Is everything okay? No permanent damage?”

“I think I’m in the clear. I did a quick eye wash in the restroom. My eyes are mildly irritated but I think most of the drink went up my nose and in my mouth.”

I studied her. Her eyes were definitely bloodshot but otherwise she didn’t look too worse for the wear. “Well. I guess it could have been worse. Maybe. I’m glad you’re okay.”

She paused with the glass halfway to her mouth. She looked at me from under her long lashes. “What do you think would be the worst drink to get thrown in your face?” she mused.

“A dirty martini,” I said wryly. “That olive juice was probably no joke.”

“I would think anything citrus would be worse. That would really sting. Beer would be sticky.”

Contemplating, I reached out and took the fresh martini the bartender was handing me. “Moonshine.”

“Moonshine?” She laughed. “You’ve never even had moonshine. How would you know?”

Her confidence amused me. “How do you know I’ve never had moonshine? I did grow up in the woods of Minnesota.”

“And then Texas,” she said.

I was surprised she remembered that from the carriage ride. It had just been a brief passing comment on my part. “Yes, I did.”

“I concede. Maybe you have tried moonshine. I have not. So I can’t judge if it would be painful in the eye or not.”

“Maybe there is no sliding scale. Maybe they all suck.”

“Probably,” she agreed. She raised her glass. “Here’s to my mother, who must have said, ‘Dakota, stop screwing around, you’ll get hurt!’ at least one million times in my childhood. I should have listened more.”

“To your mother.” I tapped my glass against hers. “And your complete inability to listen.”

“Why would that be a good thing?” she asked, with a flirtatious smile.

“Because if you obeyed, I wouldn’t have run into you tonight.”

“Or me you.”

A lean man wearing a pocket square approached Dakota. “I see you’ve recovered,” he said. “I’m leaving. I can’t take this.”

The smile fell off her face. “Why? Are you okay?”

The guy was definitely upset. He actually looked like he might cry those angry tears of frustration. His nostrils were flaring. “Kai is here. He didn’t mention that when he gave me these tickets. He had a guy with him. I’m just going to leave. I’m not feeling this.”

“Sure, okay, I’m sorry, Elijah.” Dakota turned to me. “I’m sorry, I need to go.”

That sucked. “Sure, of course. But can I have your number?” I reached to pull my phone out. I wasn’t letting her walk away this time.

“You don’t have to leave,” her friend said. He turned to me. “I’m Elijah, by the way. Dakota’s friend who has the absolute worst taste in men and who is far too nice.”

I noticed Dakota rolled her eyes a little at the last bit.

“I’m Brandon.” I held my hand out. “Sorry you’re having a rough night.”

Elijah shook my hand. “Have you ever looked at a person and wondered how someone you once loved is now so irritating on every single level?”

That hit too close to home. My ex-wife made me feel that way. But I wasn’t about to reveal that, or slam Bridget that way. We’d both been responsible for ruining our marriage, though she’d made divorce and custody arrangements way harder than they had needed to be. All that was too personal though, so I made a joke out of it. “I think you’ve nailed my ex-wife’s feelings about me perfectly,” I said lightly.

Elijah laughed. “So how do you and Dakota know each other and can you please stop her from doing insane things like riding a banister at a classy charity event?”

“Hey!” Dakota said. “I don’t need an animal tamer.”

The thought of trying to control her with a whip got me instantly hard. I cleared my throat. “We met on the elevator a couple of months ago.”

“This is carriage rescue guy,” Dakota said to Elijah.

Carriage rescue guy? Hell, I’d take it. It meant she’d talked to her friends about me.

Elijah’s expression changed. “Ooooh, I see. You’re the big strong hero who kept our fair Dakota from the clutches of the evil Dante.”

That seemed a little dramatic. A lot dramatic. “I’m one hundred percent certain she could have saved herself, but I happened to be in the right place at the right time.”

He turned to Dakota and spoke as if I wasn’t standing right there. “Humble too. That’s hot.”

I took a sip of my martini, welcoming the burn of the vodka.

Dakota made a sound that seemed to indicate agreement, but then she sipped her champagne. I didn’t know what to say since suggesting she ditch her friend and hang out with me wasn’t really a polite option.

Elijah had no such problem finding words. “I insist you stay with Brandon and have some fun,” he said. “Or I’ll never speak to you again.”

That seemed harsh but I appreciated his efforts.

Dakota didn’t look concerned. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay and have some fun yourself?”

“Oh, yeah, this would be a great time for me. Third-wheeling to you and carriage rescue man while my ex canoodles with his hot Latin lover. That would be amazing for me.” Elijah put his hand up. “Bye. Call me tomorrow. Love you.” He turned to me. “Nice to meet you. Make sure she gets home okay and wear a condom.”

I hoped his confidence had some truth behind it. “Nice to meet you too. And yes, I will make sure she gets home safely.”

“And wear a condom. I need to hear you say it.”

“Elijah,” Dakota scolded. “Leave him alone. He’s a decent guy, even if he doesn’t like parties, and you’re embarrassing him.”

What she said was mostly accurate. I tried to be a decent guy. But I wasn’t embarrassed. I was just totally unsure how to respond. If I said yes, I would look like a douche. If I said no, I would look like a douche. Yep. I was rusty as fuck when it came to situations like this. I did want to have sex with her. Without question.

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