Ashton Scott

“Yeah, I’m worried this time.”

“I’m on it. And, Ashton?”

“What?”

Her voice softens. “You can only do so much for him. You can’t force someone to change and get better. That’s on Jack.”

“Jessica, there aren’t many people in this world that I’d give everything up for. Jack’s one of those people and I’ll move heaven and fucking hell to get him better.” My tone is a little harsher than I’d meant, but fuck, every word I said is true.

“I know,” she says. And then—“I’ll leave you to your vagina hunting now.”

I shake my head as we end the call. Jessica has a way with words. She would have to be the crassest woman I know, but then again, she does think of women in the same way as most men do.

“Are you going to order something to eat?” Alessandra asks as she and the kids come back to the table.

“You should get nuggets,” Sadie says as she sits next to me. She immediately begins unpacking

the meal Alessandra has bought her.

“Why nuggets?” I’m always interested in Sadie’s reasons for things. She has a mind that works in such an abstract way.

“So I can share them.” She shoves a fry in her mouth and grins at me.

I return her smile and ruffle her hair. “Of course, makes perfect sense to me, pumpkin.”

“So much like her uncle,” Alessandra says with mock exasperation.

Directing a grin at her, I stand and say, “And her father.”

Alessandra rolls her eyes. “Go, before that line gets too long.”

She’s right—the line is almost out the door. On my way to the end, I catch Lorelei’s eye. Actually, I catch her watching me and take in the blush that spreads across her cheeks and down her neck when she realises I caught her.

Fuck me.

I can’t recall the last time I made a woman blush.

It’s fucking hot.

She quickly turns away and engrosses herself in conversation with her friend again. I take my place in the back of the line and continue watching her.

I’ve dated my fair share of women but not once have I dated a redhead. Lorelei’s long red hair was the first thing I noticed about her on Monday. Right before I got a glimpse of her eyes—beautiful green eyes that I’m sure see everything. I may have met her on a day she’d clearly come straight to work from the night before, when she wasn’t at her best, but I could see the sharp workings of her brain.

My mind wanders, not for the first time this week, to thoughts of where she’d come from that morning. It’s almost killed me not looking into whether she’s involved with anyone, but I’ve spent the better part of my time talking myself out of pursuing her. She infuriated me enough on Monday morning to never want anything to do with her, but by the time I left her office the second time that day, intrigue had settled in. My feelings on the matter have alternated all week. And now I find myself back on the side of wanting her.

She places her order and makes her way to where the team is sitting once she has her food. I wait with only shards of patience for my turn to order. When I finally have nuggets, fries, and two milkshakes, I head back to Alessandra’s table.

Sadie eyes me expectantly and I grin as I hand over the nuggets. When I place the milkshakes in front of her and her brother, Bradley, Alessandra glares at me. I simply shrug.

“I can’t wait for the day you have children,” she mutters. “I’m going to be the most favourite auntie in the whole damn world.”

I chuckle as I reach for a nugget. “I would expect nothing less, Aly. Until then, I’m going to continue being the most favourite uncle in the world.”

We finish eating and I forget my infatuation with watching Lorelei while I dedicate my complete attention to Sadie and Bradley. The time I have with these two is sacred time. No deal or meeting comes before them. Hell, they’re the only people in the world I’d eat McDonalds for.

“So,” Alessandra says after we’ve all finished eating, “are you able to fill in for coach again next week?”

I eye her. The way she’s asked is as if she expects this to be a hard sell. I jumped at the opportunity when she asked me last week to fill in; I’m hardly going to say no this time. “I’ll clear my diary. Any Thursday afternoon is yours.”