Page 114 of The Score We Never Settled

“Just you,” he replies evenly. “You were the only person worth the time.”

I smile and thread my fingers through his hair. “You interested in redoing that shower? I haven’t had one.”

“Only if I can take you out to breakfast. In public.”

My lips heave higher as I roll my eyes and press a chaste kiss to his lips. “I guess.”

“Then you’ve got yourself a deal,” he claims, pushing off the French doors and taking me toward what I assume is the bathroom. “You’re gonna have to wear my clothes. And what will people think?”

“That you seduced me and you’re such a bad influence.”

He laughs a little and shakes his head. “That’s old news, Layla Jean. What I’m hoping is that they see how much I love you and that we’re forever, despite the time frame and the secret.”

“I think that’s a given.” He steals a look at me as he walks. “You’re obsessed with me.”

“Another given.”

“So, you’ll win the playoffs?”

“That’s the plan.” He quirks a brow. “And I get your answer?”

“That’s the plan.”

He pushes his lips out and seems content. “You’d better continue your stretches then. Because if you thought this was a lot, wait until I find out we’re gonna keep doing this. I’ve been training for you my whole life. And I plan on winning over my wife and her cunt for eternity.”

He already has.

However, I’d like to see that moment when it arrives.

Because Briggs Kerrigan is a sweet bad boy with one hell of a track record when it comes to sex and handling me, and he’s the only one I want to make me come.

31

BRIGGS

Eight days isn’t long enough.

And those days getting sliced down to less aren’t ideal, and it’s something I was hoping wouldn’t come to fruition, but it has. Now, I have to leave my girl in Magnolia Ridge and go back on the road to win in the upcoming playoffs and then the World Series.

I’m not concerned about any of those things.

What I am concerned about is Layla Jean falling back into old habits, realizing that she can live her life without me and start with that divorce bullshit again.

I obviously won’t be here to fuck the ideas out of her head. So, I started looking at my schedule to see what kind of free time I’m allotted, even if it’s for a few hours. The plane ride is about an hour, no joke, and I’d stay here fifteen minutes just to fuck Layla Jean, just to hop back on a plane if that’s what it took.

I’m that severely dedicated to the cause.

I dropped her off at Buttercup & Brioche so she could get some things done, promising I’d pick her up for dinner at the only place that serves steak in town.

I’ve just gotten done kissing her in the back of the stockroom and forced myself to leave when I literally almost run into my father on the sidewalk, and my mood immediately goes to shit.

“Son,” he drones, not greeting me, surprisedly or happily, but with a tone of aggravation.

He didn’t need to stop.

He definitely could’ve kept going.

I’m not in the mood for this kind of bullshit at present. I have a million things running through my head right now because I’m leaving Magnolia Ridge tonight.