“You, wow. Like, this is kind of awesome meeting you,” Rhett stuttered.
Luc snickered softly, and she realized he must be used to similar interactions with awestruck fans. “And it’s great to meet more of Bailey’s family.”
“Are you two actually going out?” Cindy said. “You kissed her, but I was sure you only did that for the ratings.”
Wow. Bailey fixed her smile in place. Apparently for today’s lunch Cindy had brought winter.
“Actually, yeah. We’re going out.” Luc kissed Bailey’s cheek. “I’m so grateful I met her. She’s just the best, isn’t she?” he said to Cindy.
Cindy’s upturned lip spoke volumes. “Hashtag grateful and blessed,” she snarked before dragging Rhett off to the open concept kitchen where her mom was fixing a salad.
Luc swiveled to meet Bailey’s gaze, his upraised brows and mouthed “Wow” concurring with what she’d thought. “Is she always like that?”
“Not usually as bad as that, but who knows? The day is young.”
He bent his head and murmured, “How long are we staying for?”
“Let me guess. You want to get straight to dessert.”
“Always.”
She laughed, which drew her mom and Rhett’s smiles, and her dad and Cindy’s frowns. Surely the rest of the day could only improve.
“Oh my gosh. Luc, I’m so sorry.”
He reached across his vehicle’s center console and held Bailey’s hand. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay. I cannot believe she spoke like that to you.”
Cindy was, in the words of his mom, “a piece of work”, but saying so to Bailey right now wouldn’t help the situation. Judging from the way Wayne had eyed him, he didn’t like Luc much either. But again, pointing that out wouldn’t help the situation.
“I don’t know what you think of my family,” Bailey murmured.
“Your mom and Rhett seem to like me, so that’s something.”
“They do. Mom is a big fan, and I think you’ve officially made Rhett’s year.”
Luc chuckled. Rhett might be in his late twenties, but he’d seemed more excited than some of the kids Luc met at preseason family days. “He works hard at the pharmacy, huh?”
“He works too hard, but Cindy likes nice things.”
“She doesn’t work?”
“She has a photography business she never does much with.”
“I see.”
Some of the players he knew had wives or girlfriends like that. The classic trophy wife who existed more to look good than contribute meaningfully in any way. And maybe that sounded judgy, but when he saw how some of those women treated his workmates, hearing their complaints about the travel and times away, despite knowing that his teammates worked their butts off, risking injury to collect a paycheck, yeah, he wasn’t sympathetic to their cause. A woman who worked hard herself, who made few demands, yet obviously valued family, was much more his speed. He glanced across, picked up Bailey’s hand and kissed it.
“What’s that for?”
“Being brave enough to take me today.”
“I hope you enjoyed some of it.”
“Of course I did.” Seeing her world, some of what had shaped her, was fascinating. And in the course of that, learning more about the dynamics of the Donovan family spiked a sliver of concern. Bailey was close to her family—anyone could see that—but how much did she place her sense of value and worth on what they said? He’d noticed the way she shut down when Cindy started sharing her opinions. Maybe it was politeness, but it seemed the whole Donovan clan just pretended that Rhett’s wife was pleasant, when her behavior should’ve been called out. If it was his house he would’ve done that, and had been sorely tempted to pull her down a peg or six, but respect for Bailey and her mom had kept his lips zipped.
Then there was Bailey’s dad, with his prodding and poking and glances at Luc’s arms like he didn’t know how a sweet girl could fall for a guy like him. He sighed.
“What is it?”
“Does your dad have a problem with tattoos?”
“You’ve noticed that, huh?”
Like someone noticed an ambulance screeching by with its lights on and siren blaring.
“You know that picture of Chrissy, and what he said before? She married a man who had ink like you, and Dad was never a fan.” She sighed. “So now, I’m afraid he feels the same about anyone who sports similar things.”
He half-smiled at her use of “sports.”
“What?”
“I love some of these words you use like ‘sports’.”
She shrugged. “I think I picked it up when I was in England.” She squeezed his hand. “Let me guess: you love it because it’s ‘sports’.”
