Page 83 of Against the Clock
“You like kids?” he asks slowly.
“Who doesn’t like kids? Your friend and his wife seem awesome. It helps when the kids are cute, by the way, and that Layla, I loved her.” I laugh. “I bet she gives them a run for their money.”
“They all do.”
We trudge through the soggy field towards the main farm, where we can pay for the apples, and the wind whips through the open space, sending my hair flying around me.
“This has been a great day,” I tell him, my heart full. It really has. “It’s been a perfect fall day.”
“I agree,” Daniel says, but his voice is quiet, different somehow.
When I glance up at him, though, his eyes are sparkling, his smile just as big as ever.
“Good thing it’s not over. I’m ready for charcuterie.”
“And wine?”
“And wine,” I confirm.
“Good,” Daniel says, then looks askance at me. “You sure you’re feeling okay? I think maybe you’re coming down with something.”
“What?” I try to juggle the bag full of apples in my arms and he lifts it effortlessly from my embrace. I push my palm against my forehead, trying to figure out what he’s talking about. “Do I look bad?”
“Really bad,” he nods. “You probably should call in sick and spend the night again.”
A laugh rips out of me and I roll my eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Ridiculously into you,” he says.
My cheeks hurt, and it’s not just from the icy wind but from smiling.
Daniel Harrison makes me feel really good.
CHAPTER 34
DANIEL
I don’t want to take her home. The day is done, the sun setting on the picturesque winery. A propane heater burns over our table, large outdoor lanterns lighting the path and hanging from the huge oak trees all over the winery. The charcuterie board is mostly empty now, I’ve devoured two of their flatbreads all on my own, and between the two of us, we’ve polished off a bottle of wine.
No more than that, though, seeing as how we both have to work tomorrow.
For the first time in my career, I’m not looking forward to it. There’s an ache in my shoulder I don’t like, but more than that, I want to spend more time with the woman sitting next to me with a glass of wine in her hand and stars in her eyes.
“I think I need to get home,” she says softly, then covers her mouth as she yawns.
“I shouldn’t have kept you out so late,” I tell her. We’ve already paid, but neither one of us was ready to leave until now.
“You didn’t.” She shakes her head. “I wanted to hang out with you, just like you said.”
She shifts, then flinches slightly.
“You okay?” I frown. It’s easy to see when someone’s in pain once you’ve been around pro athletes long enough, and Kelsey doesn’t have a clue how to hide it.
Or a reason to.
“Just sore.”
“Apple picking?”