Making the Play Read Free Page B

them. “Bethany, look, I think you got the wrong impression.” James’ eyes swung toward Grant as he reached them and immediately lit up. Grant pressed the football into his small hands. “Would you hang on to this for me, big guy?”
    â€œYes,” James answered, completely serious as he watched Grant move closer to her.
    â€œI don’t want you to think I go around asking pretty women and their sons out to dinner at the park all the time.” Bethany tightened her jaw and crossed her arms, refusing to admit that was exactly what she suspected. He flashed her a smile. “As a matter of fact, I’ve never done this before.”
    She found that hard to believe. “While I appreciate the offer, Mr. McQuaid, I don’t date.”
    â€œWhat’s a date?” James asked. Bethany cursed the fact that they were even having this conversation around James and ignored her son’s question.
    Grant stood and shrugged. “Who said anything about a date? This will just be two guys talking about football in sign language, right, James?” Grant held his hand out for James to give him a low-­five and her son obliged.
    Bethany was having a hard time looking away from Grant’s dark eyes and the entreaty she could see there. When she looked down at James, the pleading blue was even harder to deny. She knew how much this opportunity to spend time with his hero meant to James, regardless of how cocky Grant might be, but she didn’t like the way he was going about this. Regardless, she could feel herself caving.
    She took a step closer, moving between Grant and James so her son couldn’t see her face or read her lips. “I’m sorry, Mr. McQuaid, but my son isn’t some kind of toy for you to use to get a date.” She pressed a finger to his chest. “No one is going to use him as an easy target.”
    â€œWhoa, wait a minute—­” He took a step backward. “Now, I know we got off to a bad start.” He looked at James, peeking at him from behind her skirt, then back at her. “Look, it’s obvious James is a fan and I really was just looking for a way to hang out with him for a bit. It had nothing to do with you.”
    She arched a brow in disdain. “Right, because all football players enjoy hanging out with six-­year-­olds.”
    His eyes slid over her slowly, taking in every inch and she cursed the way her body responded, feeling heat travel the length of her spine into her legs. “Okay, maybe not nothing but not what you think either. I really could use the refresher with signing. I wasn’t trying to use your kid to get a date. I swear.” His eyes softened as he held up his last finger. “Pinkie promise?”
    â€œSeriously?” What kind of man even said that out loud? “How old are you?”
    â€œPinkie promise,” James interrupted, moving beside her and raising his hand to hook fingers with Grant.
    Bethany sighed, realizing she’d just been overruled by her six-­year-­old. “Fine, but not dinner.” Grant nodded and James mimicked the movement seriously. “Tomorrow after school. We’ll come if he gets his homework done.”
    Grant grew serious with James and let his fingers move. “You hear that?” Do your work so we can play football tomorrow , he signed. “I’m looking forward to playing ball with you . . .”
    He stood up and stared down at her. “I really am, you know.”
    She wanted to ask him why, to find out exactly what his intentions were. There had to be something in this for him, some good press at the very least, but he took off before she could speak. Bethany watched as he jogged across the field to meet up with his brother in the parking lot, trying not to appreciate the way the muscles down his back and legs rippled under his clothing with the movement. She felt her stomach twist and somersault like a gymnast,