O Line (The New York Nighthawks 3) - Page 4

“Let me know if he ever needs tickets to a game.”

I was a little flustered by his offer since the season wouldn’t start until another three and a half months after the gala. It seemed unlikely that we would still be in touch. But it was a sweet offer. “Thanks.”

“It’s no big deal.” He waved off my gratitude. “I’m very happy that you’re going with me to the gala next month. And I owe you big time since you’ll be putting up with my mom on our first date. I wasn’t exaggerating how much she’s on my case about going stag to the ball. So don’t be intimidated if she starts to grill you about marriage and babies. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

I was a little nervous about meeting his mom now. What would I say if she asked me directly when Jordan and I were getting married and giving her a grandbaby? At least it sounded like he was prepared for that scenario, though, so maybe keeping my mouth shut would work just fine. I forced myself to calm down and appear easygoing about it all.

“Like you said…it’s no big deal,” I parroted back to him with a smile. “I love dressing up, so it will be fun for me.”

“About that,” he drawled, setting his fork on his plate. “The event is the annual Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center fundraiser gala, so the dress is black tie. Since you’re attending as my guest, I’d like to kit you out with everything you’ll need—dress, shoes, jewelry, hair, and makeup.”

I pressed my hand against my chest, touched by his offer. If our date was real, meeting Jordan tonight would’ve been like a fairy tale come true, with him playing the parts of my fairy godmother and the prince. Too bad for me, I was just stepping into the role of his fake date. “I’d like to say that you don’t need to do that, but I’d be a fool to turn you down when I know what it will take to appear on your arm at a society event like that.”

His eyes speared into mine as he growled, “You could show up in a potato sack, and I would still be proud to be your date. The dress and shit are for you and nobody else. I just want you to enjoy yourself while we’re there, and I know how much effort my mom puts into her look when she attends shit like this.”

“Thank you.” I reached out to pat his clenched fist. “That’s so sweet of you.”

The same could be said of him. In fact, I would be more than happy to have him in something shirtless. Everyone knew he had a football play tattooed under one of his pecs and a silver barbell in his nipple. I was disappointed that I wouldn’t get to see them up close since this was just a fake date.

“I’ll need your contact information so I can send everything over for when you get back from your trip.”

He handed me his cell phone, and I typed in my address and phone number. If Jordan had been anyone else, I never would have given him my information. Then again, I probably wouldn’t have agreed to attend the gala with him in the first place, so he wouldn’t have needed it.

“It’s too bad you’re leaving tomorrow. I would have loved to take you out again so we could get to know each other better before the gala.”

So that was what he meant by first date. He’d wanted us to have one before the ball, and since we couldn’t, the event would technically be our first date instead.

My shoulders slumped as I considered the reason behind his offer. If we were going to convince his mom that we were on a real date, we’d need to know more about each other than the few details we’d shared today. “We could text while I’m gone.”

His smile sent butterflies swirling in my belly again. “I’d like that.”

I was looking forward to keeping in touch with Jordan while I was gone, but I wished he wanted to learn more about me because he was truly interested and not so our cover story was believable to his mom.

3

Jordan

Me: What’s your favorite color?

Wife-to-be: Do you really need to know that for the ball?

The silly face emoji after her question made me laugh. I’d spent no more than an hour with Wrenley, yet I missed her like crazy. But it had been a great opportunity to get to know each other, something I was sure we would have done less of if she were in town. We’d have been spending most of our time with our mouths otherwise occupied…screaming, for example.

However, my question about her favorite color had been for more than just my need to know absolutely everything about her.

Tags: Fiona Davenport The New York Nighthawks Romance
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