Making the Play Read Free Page A

cheeks. Her son didn’t realize he was practically setting her up on a date. “James, I don’t—­”
    Grant dropped his head back and laughed out loud. It was a warm, relaxed sound that reminded her of the afternoons she’d hung out in sweats, watching football with her Dad, or nights curled up with James, watching him sleep. Inviting, homey, comforting.
    â€œLittle man, you’re on.” Grant winked at her son. “I’ll make you a deal. If you promise to help me practice my sign language, I’ll take you guys out for pizza tonight. Your Grandpa can join us.”
    He turned his gaze toward Bethany, jerking her back to reality. He looked like he was waiting for her agreement, as if the idea that she might turn him down wasn’t even an option. She stared at him, unsure where to begin—­by flat out turning him down because of his assumption that she wouldn’t or being honest and explaining she’d chosen not to date until James was older.
    James broke in, filling in the moment of uncomfortable silence. “Grandpa doesn’t live here. He lives at my old house in Tennessee.”
    The note of sadness in her son’s voice made Bethany’s heart ache and her throat close. He might have acclimated well to their move last summer but she knew he missed living with his Grandparents. It had been a big adjustment for the child to go from doting grandparents giving him attention twenty-­four hours a day to only the two of them. For a child who had few close relationships he could trust in, tearing him away from two ­people who loved him had devastated her.
    â€œOh, I see.” Grant squatted back to James’ level. “Well, then we’ll call him after we eat. What do you say?”
    â€œCan we, Mom?” James clasped his hands together and turned his angel face up to hers, the way he did whenever he wanted something badly. “Please?”
    â€œYes, please?” Grant copied her son comically, but she didn’t miss the way his eyes darkened, or the arrogant wink he gave her.
    He obviously thought he could turn that deep brown gaze on her and charm her. He might be able to use his good looks and celebrity status to get his way with other women but, unfortunately for him, the only eyes that charmed her were her son’s deep blue ones. She wasn’t about to fawn over this man simply because he knew a little sign language and smiled at her.
    â€œI don’t think it’s a good idea.”
    Grant’s brow immediately furrowed and he looked back at James. She reached for her son’s hand, forcing him to drop the football.
    â€œWe really need to get going. It was nice to meet you, Mr. McQuaid.”
    Even as she pulled James back toward the trees, she could feel him tugging against her hand, turning to look behind him. It wasn’t fair for this man to use her son’s hero worship to finagle a date and, while it hadn’t been the first time a man tried, it still pissed her off that anyone would use a child that way, let alone hers.
    James planted his feet and stopped. “Mom, please. Do you know who that is? He plays football for—­”
    She turned around and knelt down. “Baby, I know who he is, but I have some things to get ready for school tomorrow.”
    She was lying through her teeth, something she rarely did to James, but she couldn’t explain to him why they couldn’t go out for pizza. How was she supposed to tell a six-­year-­old that his hero was far too good-­looking, that he made her stomach flutter in ways she hadn’t remembered it ever twisting and twirling or that he had what her mother fondly called “bedroom eyes?” Just because she didn’t date, didn’t mean her libido was dead.
    But since she couldn’t say any of that to James, it was far easier to tell a little white lie.
    Glancing up, she saw Grant jogging the short distance to catch up to