Page 11 of The Keeper and I
“Haven’t you heard of a soft launch?” Laci put an indignant hand on her hip. “We’re just starting out. I’m not going to plaster him all over the place.”
“He’s a footballer; he’s used to it!”
“That’s exactly why they’re so private!” Ava interjected. “Don’t want the press all over them, do they?”
“Right,” Laci said with a firm nod. She rose to stand next to Jordan, tucking herself beneath his arm and sliding her own around his waist. It sent a jolt up his spine to feel her touch, but he maintained his steely expression, which became more difficult when she nudged him to get his attention. The sight of her peering up at him through her long lashes made him want to engulf her in his arms. “We prefer our privacy, don’t we, babe?”
His brain short-circuited at the sound of the endearment coming from her lips, and he took a moment to recover. Clearing his throat, he simply added, “Yep.”
Dane’s raised eyebrows betrayed his skepticism, but his uncertainty was evident in the way his gaze bounced from each person as if sizing them all up. “I didn’t mean to…I just…I’m a fan of hers, and I was hoping…well…I dunno, it doesn’t matter now.”
“That’s exactly right. It doesn’t matter,” Ava said. “Get the fuck out of here.”
“Fine,” Dane huffed. “Sorry. I’ll leave you alone.”
Hanging his head, he stormed out of the pub, shoving the door so hard it nearly swung into the outside wall. He stalked down the pavement. Jordan followed him with his eyes until he was out of sight. Laci’s shoulders relaxed, and she let out a long breath. Jordan looked down at her.
“You alright?”
“Yeah,” she said. “Thanks for that.”
“Anytime,” he replied and immediately wanted to kick himself.Anytime? Why in the world would that happen again? He’d never been that lucky. “I mean, not that you’d need it or anything, but—”
“I knew what you meant.” She stopped him with a gentle smile, and he could have sworn the whole room got brighter. “I really appreciate it, but I should probably head home.”
“Don’t leave yet. He might be waiting for you,” Ava said. She patted the barstool again. “Sit back down. We’ll get you a drink.”
“But where will you sit?” Laci wondered, eyeing Jordan.
“I’ve got fucking strong legs,” he said with a shrug.
She smiled again and took the chair. Jordan moved to stand on the free side of her, blocking her from the window. She offered her hand.
“We haven’t been properly introduced,” she said. “I’m Laci Miller.”
“Jordan Frawley,” he replied, shaking her hand.
“Nice to meet you, Jordan.”
“You as well.”
He wondered if it was obvious that his heart was galloping inside his ribcage at just being beside her. If it was, she was gracious enough to let him off the hook.
“I’ll be honest, I didn’t know you were a footballer,” she said. “Which club?”
“I’m the goalkeeper for Stanmore,” he told her.
“Jordan…” she trailed off. “Hold on, I thought you played for Everton.”
He wrinkled his nose. “That’s Jordan Pickford.”
“You sure?”
“What? Of course I’m sure,” he replied, affronted. “We don’t even look alike.”
“You sort of do.”
“He’s fuckingblondfor Christ’s sake. And he’sEnglish.”