Page 42 of The Catch

This time, Saint's smile is genuine. "I'm glad you still want me around, Logan, despite how disappointed you must be that you're not going on the TV show anymore."

I perk up. "Something happened with the show?"

I hadn't forgotten, but the trade took priority for a bit.

Logan doesn't react to Saint's sarcasm, but answers me. "I will let him explain, but some plans have changed. Evie just told me she and I are not going to the show anymore."

"Oh?" I turn to Saint. "What happened?"

"My agent let me know the TV show producers decided to change the direction of the show," he explains. "It will just be you and me, now, Ames."

I bite the inside of my cheek. This TV show is such a big opportunity I'm still trying to wrap my head around it. I've avoided thinking too hard about it, or the nerves and hope will take over, and I will be an anxious mess.

A show like this could open doors to new business opportunities, yes. It's also a gift. The chance to cook and share my food with people, bring my traditions and teachings with me, and build community through them.

"So you and I," I say. "Next Monday. Cooking together while the cameras roll."

Saint and I, together, spending a few hours doing my favorite thing in the world. Perhaps finding the magic of synchronicity, when two people fall into a harmony that needs no melody. While surrounded by a production team and a few cameras.

I lick my lips. Saint keeps on smiling, unaware.

"I'm happy to be your sous chef again." His dimples pop. "I will say 'Yes, chef!' as often as you want me to."

"Wait." Dom studies us. "That means you're missing the gala."

Logan nods. "And now Evie and I get to go. Good."

"Really?" Bear arches an eyebrow at the quarterback. "I wasn't sure you enjoyed the party last year."

"Oh, I did," he says. "She says I have to go, I go. She says plans have changed, I say it's all good. And I can't wait to spend time with my girlfriend while we're both dressed to impress, again."

"Should we dress to impress?" Saint asks me.

He's sitting to my side. His eyes sparkle. We share a long look that has enough warmth in it, enough playfulness, he might be flirting.

My heart skips a beat. Shyness threatens to come to life, because of the thoughts I'm having and because I'm at the receiving end of his attention. Despite the way it prickles up my backbone, I manage a smile.

"It's supposed to be like a holiday dinner party, right?" I ask. "We can dress up."

"I'll dress up for you." His grin stretches wide, deepening the notches on his cheeks. "Will you dress up, too?"

He doesn't say it in as many words, and I may be imagining things, but I can hear a different question hidden in his words.

Will you dress up for me?

Butterflies explode in my stomach. Back at Aidan's place, I told Saint to flirt with me. Does this mean he's going to do it? And that he wants to see where it goes?

Yeah, that crush is imminent.

"I like dressing up," I say.

"And when you come to our next home game," Dom adds, "you get to wear Saint's jersey."

"I'm going to that game now?" I stare at the tight end.

"I think you should," Dom says. "Our Christmas game will be here."

"Would you mind?" I ask Saint.