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Lyric and Lingerie (Fort Worth Wranglers 1)

Page 74

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“You’ve got it all figured out.” She giggled as his lips hit a particularly ticklish spot behind her ear. “So your plan is to have your way with me up here?”

“Nope, I’m too tired.” Gently he laid her down, and then he snuggled in behind her. He laid his arm out flat so she could use it as a pillow. “I’m so damn tired of thinking about tomorrow and the tomorrow after that. I’m so damn tired of missing football. I’m just so damn tired.”

“So this is how we’ll spend our evenings once we move in here permanently?” She had to admit, it wasn’t half bad. “Just living in the moment.”

“I love it here.” He patted the wall behind him. “Some great memories.” He yawned. “I seduced the right girl here, and then I messed it up by calling her the wrong name.”

The words hung in the air, and it took her a full minute for their meaning to sink in. He knew. Wait a minute. He knew?

“Hang on … we need to talk about this.” Her pulse cranked up as everything she’d told herself tonight came crashing down around her ears.

His only response was some soft snoring from behind her.

Oh God. Oh God, oh God, oh God. What was she going to do? What was she going to do?

She wanted to wake Heath up and demand some answers, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to know what those answers were. Wasn’t sure she wanted to hear what he had to say. Not yet. Not when she could barely get her head around what he had just said.

Several hours later, a black hole was spinning around her as she studied the event horizon and Hawking radiation. She was floating in space and still able to breath in spite of the lack of air. It was so weird. Just when she was about to prove that Hawking radiation was real, her left butt cheek started to vibrate. Did that have something to do with the black hole? She went perfectly still. The vibrating stopped and then started again. Her eyes fluttered open.

Blazing reds, oranges, pinks, and yellows streamed into the tree house through the cracks between the boards. Sunrise. There was a warm body snuggl

ed in behind her. Heath.

His left front jeans pocket vibrated again.

It was social sacrilege to answer someone else’s phone, but she’d love to snuggle back into sleep and continue her research into black holes. So she reached behind her, worked the phone out of his pocket, and swiped her finger over the screen.

“Hello.”

There were several seconds of silence on the other end.

Just as Lyric was about to end the call, a male voice said, “May I speak with Heath?”

“He’s asleep right now.” She tried to be as quiet as she could, but Heath was practically snoring on top of her.

“This is Dalton Mane, the general manager for the Fort Worth Wranglers. I’ve been trying to get in touch with Heath. Will you have him call me.” The last sentence hadn’t been a question.

“Absolutely, what is this regarding?” Lyric knew damn well what it was regarding, but she wanted to hear this Dalton Whatever say it out loud.

“The offensive line coaching job.” Dalton was all business.

“Coaching?” It made perfect sense. Heath would be wonderful at coaching. “I’ll tell him, and I’ll make sure he calls you.”

“I would appreciate that. Thank you very much. Good-bye.” He hung up.

No small talk—she liked Dalton already.

“You answered my phone?” Heath’s voice rumbled in her ear. “You answered my goddamn phone?”

“It was ringing, or, well, buzzing.” She really didn’t have an excuse. “It was the Wranglers’ general manager.”

“You answered my phone. I’ve spent the last week dodging every damn phone call I could, and you just went and answered it?” He was all righteous indignation. “You had no right. I’m not ready to talk to anyone yet.”

“I know … but it was good news.” She turned over and faced him. “They want you to coach the offensive line.”

For long seconds he didn’t say anything. He just stared at her like her words didn’t compute. “What did you say?” His voice was little more than a whisper.

“Dalton Somebody wants to talk to you about the offensive line coaching job. Maybe you should have picked up the phone all those times he called.”



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