Read Online Making the Play by T. J. Kline - Free Book Online

couldn’t help but smile at his banter with his grandson. “But I hope Mr. McQuaid realizes he’s only allowed to play with you and not your mother, though, or his neck injury will be the least of his worries.”
    â€œWhy, Grandpa? Because she’s a girl.”
    Her father laughed. “Yep. Because I don’t want to see her get hurt.”
    Grant’s eyes immediately jumped from the phone screen to meet Bethany’s and she felt the color drain from her face at her father’s threat. She scrambled for the phone but Grant beat her to it, smiling broadly as he lifted the cell phone from the table and pressed the button to take the conversation off the speaker. Bethany covered her eyes with her hand, wondering what her father might say next.
    â€œYes, sir.” Grant didn’t take his eyes from her but at least his lips spread into an even wider grin. “Yes, you’re right, she is beautiful.” She saw his eyes travel over her face, pausing at her mouth. “That’s not my intention at all, sir. You have my word.”
    Bethany’s eyes widened and she felt the heat creep over her face as his gaze met hers again, the corners of his eyes wrinkling with humor. “He’s a pretty great kid. Bethany told me you were the one who taught him to play pool too.” Grant’s laughter rang out. It was a rich sound that warmed her all the way to her toes. “Yeah, he crushed me in about five minutes.”
    She couldn’t listen to any more. Bethany reached for the pitcher and carried it to the counter, waiting as Billy refilled it for her and forced herself not to turn around and stare at the man seated at the table with her son. How could her father embarrass her that way? At least now she wouldn’t have to worry about Grant McQuaid getting any more ideas about this being a date. Even if he hadn’t gotten the point from her, her father had sufficiently taken care of that. She felt a trickle of disappointment slide through her, settling in her chest, and she cursed the feeling. She didn’t want to date him.
    Or do you?
    She stuffed the confusing thoughts deep into her psyche. She didn’t have the time or inclination to date anyone. Her first loyalty was to her son. It just wasn’t the right time to bring a man into their lives, especially one in the public eye like Grant McQuaid. As Billy took the pitcher of soda to fill, she looked back to the table to see Grant, now off the phone, with his head bent close to James as he worked on his signs.
    Bethany knew that James was a charming child, dazzling most ­people he met, but she’d never met someone quite so enamored of him. Nor had she ever seen her son quite this taken by another adult, although, in fairness, Grant was his favorite player. She smiled as she recalled how telling James they were moving to Grant McQuaid’s home town was the only way she’d been able to convince him about the move. She’d never, in a million years, expected to run into the man with his schedule, let alone be on a date with him.
    This isn’t a date , she reminded herself again. Why was she having such a difficult time remembering the fact?
    â€œBecause you want it to be,” she muttered to herself.
    Billy slid the pitcher across the counter at her. “What was that, Bethany?”
    She shook her head, embarrassed at being caught staring at Grant. “Nothing. Thank you.” She carried the pitcher back to the table, steeling herself to apologize for her father’s comments.
    â€œMom, can Grant come to our house and see my room? He said he’d buy us ice cream too.”
    Grant turned his dark eyes on her and gave her a disarming smile. “Sorry, I probably should have checked with you first.”
    He didn’t look sorry at all. In fact, he looked certain she would give in.
    Please , James signed.
    Please , Grant copied, his lopsided smile deepening as his gaze locked on