Page 43 of Dare to Love

Dylan studied her for a long moment. “I like how you think and what you bring to the table. I just don’t want trouble.”

“You won’t have any.”

He nodded, seemingly assured. He dropped the subject, and they ate breakfast prior to their first meeting with the hotel owner.

Riley didn’t taste her food, but she knew she had a long day ahead of her, and she forced herself to eat.

When she received a text from Ian, she ignored it. Phone calls? She hit decline. She deleted messages without listening to them, her anger only growing as the day went on.

The next two days passed in a blur of tours, meetings, and eating at each restaurant in the large hotel. They checked out the conference rooms to make sure they could accommodate pregame summits; they needed an even larger area for a makeshift chapel, because many of the players and their spouses liked to attend services. They sat down with floor plans, examined the layouts, the suites, the regular rooms, and by the time the trip was over, Riley’s head spun with information.

Good thing she’d taken copious notes to compare with the previous five years’ accommodations, since she hadn’t been around to see them herself. Dylan seemed pleased and said they’d have a meeting with the rest of the team back in Miami before making a final decision.

Exhausted by the time the car service took her home, she wanted nothing more than to climb into bed and sleep. The time difference would be messing with her system, and Dylan told her not to come in tomorrow.

She was only too happy to oblige.

***

Ian showed up at his mother’s house in Weston, which had also been his childhood home. Personally, he didn’t know why she still lived here when she could afford to move wherever she wanted. Anywhere wouldn’t have the memories this place did.

He parked in the circular drive and let himself into the house.

His mother greeted him in the hallway, her eyes sparkling with pleasure. Emma Dare, with her dark hair, not a strand of gray, looked younger than her fifty years, and she was as beautiful inside as out.

“Ian! I’m so glad you came by.”

He hugged her and kissed her cheek. “It’s been awhile, I know.”

She waved away his concern. “Draft time. I remember how crazy your uncle used to get before, during, and after. No worries.”

Before and after Robert Dare had abandoned his real family, his brother, Paul, had been a permanent fixture.

Ian grinned at the mention of his uncle. “Have you heard from him?”

His mother smiled. “He’s on an African safari with Lou. I don’t think he’ll be in touch for a while.”

Ian chuckled.

His uncle and his longtime partner had waited until Ian was ready to take over the reins before Paul retired and they took off to travel the world. Being gay wasn’t the reason he treated Ian and his siblings like his own children, but the fact that Lou didn’t want babies was. Paul loved Lou, and he had his nieces and nephews to spoil when they’d been younger, so he never felt as if he’d missed out. Ian was happy his uncle was enjoying his life.

Grasping his hand, his mother led him into her state-of-the-art kitchen. Recently remodeled to indulge her love of all things culinary, his mother now gave cooking classes. It was her way of establishing her independence and having something for herself, and Ian admired her for it.

He settled onto a barstool while his mother poured iced tea for them both.

“So what brings you by?” she asked.

“Nothing in particular.”

She placed his glass in front of him. “This is your mother you’re talking to. You don’t show up in the middle of the week forno reason.”

He stared at the multicolored granite counter, the wash of colors forming an indistinct blur. He hated it, preferring things in bold colors with stark contrast. Kind of like his life, with distinct rules, everything having its place. Knowing what to expect let him breathe easier. Which explained his need for control, in all things.

“So your sisters tell me you met someone special,” she said softly.

Ian let out a laugh. “They have big mouths.”

“They’re girls! The first thing they each did Sunday night was call me,” she said, laughing. “Olivia thinks it’s a good thing there’s someone who won’t take your crap. Her words,” his mother said, amusement in her voice that he didn’t appreciate.