Page 87 of Colton Storm Watch

Nick grinned as her fingers combed through his damp hair and her nails breezed across his scalp. “How am I supposed to concentrate on beating these guys when you’re here looking like…” He gestured to her sports bra and exposed navel. “Well, like my next meal.”

God, she liked the sound of that. “Save some for later,” she suggested, disentangling herself from him. She pointed to Ryan. “You throw. I’ll run it in. The rest of you hold back Noah. He’s carrying Team Shirts over there.”

“Insults!” Richie called from across the line of scrimmage.

“I’ve been running it in,” Jacob claimed.

“You’re on the line,” she said. She leaned toward him, eyeing the ranks of Team Shirts. “If Dad comes for Nick again, hold him off.”

“I don’t want to hurt him,” Jacob hedged.

“He’s tougher than he looks,” she said. “And if he sprains Nick’s wrist again, Mom won’t let him play football anymore.”

“Got it,” Jacob said with a nod.

She patted his shoulder then set herself up behind Ryan’s quarterback position as the others crouched at the line. Ryan called out the play and she shimmied forward to slap Nick on the rump. “We’ve got this, Skins!”

Nick laughed. “Yeah, we do.” He glanced back at her, and his mischievous grin took her back to past games of Shirts and Skins—to joint science fair projects and high-speed bicycle races.

To kissing outside the honky tonk and countless meals shared.

The fun wasn’t over. It would go on just as they would. For that, she had never been more grateful.

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