Page 102 of The Score We Never Settled

So, she’s fine in my book, but no, I didn’t throw two and two together.

“Never met him,” I reply honestly.

“He’s a few years older. Went to college, almost got married, and came back.”

“He helpin’ Fallon with the farm?”

She nods. “Yeah. They’re havin’ a hard time.”

“What can we do to help?” Her eyes flick up to mine mid-chew. “What?”

Layla covers her mouth. “We? Boy, I need you to get into the playoffs, not worry about what’s goin’ on here.”

“You’re here.”

“I’m fine.”

“But you’re going to get involved with Fallon’s shit because I know you, and Freckles is going to be around.”

She gives me an annoyed stare. “Are we still on Finn?”

“Aw, so he has a name now.”

“I’m married.”

“Oh, are you?” Her fist flies out and punches me in the chest, not too hard, but hard enough to tell me to shut the hell up.

“Here.” She picks up a cob of corn and tosses it at me. “Eat.”

I do what she tells me to do and keep the rest of my riling comments to myself because, sure, jealousy might be something that sparks hard when there’s another man around her, but I truly like aggravating her sometimes.

When she gets pissed, I get hard.

We eat in silence, Ella Langley playing in the background before she plucks the corn out of my hands and starts eating it.

“Hey,” I carp out while she shamelessly eats whatshegave me.

“You need to share,” she retorts. “The chicken is good.” I’m sure it is, but it’s not exactly what I’m interested in right now. “And stop gapin’ at me.”

“Can’t help it.”

“Learn.”

“Out of my scope of learnin’ abilities.” Her lips quirk behind the corn cob, and I take a piece of chicken and take a bite. “I want to show you something.”

“The dessert table?”

“Our house.” She stops mid-chew and looks up at me like a deer in headlights. “It was going to come to this eventually, Short Stop. I didn’t buy it to sit.”

She takes several moments before she mutters, “I have a house.”

“Not this one.”

Pulling the corn cob away from her lips, her tongue darts out to lick some of the butter off, and I am not immune to anything this woman does.

“I don’t wanna look at it.”

“Why?”