The Secret Hook-Up by Pippa Grant

Author:Pippa Grant [Grant, Pippa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bang Laugh Love LLC
Published: 2024-08-02T00:00:00+00:00

14

Addie

It’s a terrible day for pickleball sign-ups.

A wall of thick, dark gray clouds are making a slow roll our way from the horizon. It’s hot enough here in a corner of Reynolds Park near the pickleball courts that the mascots have had to take breaks inside the concrete restroom building. And every fifth person who’s approached the table has asked if Duncan and I are dating.

“She deserves someone way better than me,” Duncan’s saying to a seventy-year-old woman who’s here to sign up for the seasoned citizens bracket, and who has asked the question.

He’s in a maroon Thrusters polo and a tan bucket hat that hides his curly hair. If you didn’t know who he was, you’d think he was any random admin person who sat in the back office for the Thrusters instead of the team’s captain who has four championship rings and celebrated a thousand career games played two seasons ago.

“It’s nice to see a young man who’ll recognize that,” the woman says. “So you know, though, you don’t get credit for lip service. You have to prove you mean it.”

“Would you like a Fireballs water bottle, ma’am?” I interject.

“Honey, when you get to be my age, you have so many water bottles that you forget which ones have water and which ones have vodka in them. Don’t fall for any sweet words from cute young men. Make them earn you. Don’t call him Daddy like those articles say you do.”

“The articles gave us that nickname because of how it sounds when you smush our names together.” It’s not the first time Duncan has said this today. “We didn’t ask for it. We’re not using it.”

“I’m unattached and planning to stay that way,” I tell her. The statement is lacking its normal conviction, and it doesn’t slide off my tongue the way it used to.

Freaking Duncan.

The man is in my head. And I’m not as mad about it as I would’ve expected.

She leans across the table and lowers her voice. “If he gets you knocked up, you call me. I can help with whatever you need. My number’s right there on the sheet, and I’m here for you anytime. For anything. Understand?”

“Thank you, ma’am. Denise down the way has your shirt. And she slipped me pepper spray before we started in case he gets too forward.”

While she takes the hint and heads over to the T-shirt table, Duncan grabs his own hydration bottle from under the table and takes a long drink, then offers it to me.

“I have my own, thank you.”

He grins. “Don’t want to get pictured sharing drinks?”

“On the same day you’re front-page sports headline news for wearing a jersey with my name on it to a Fireballs game? Which revived the Daddie thing? No.”

“Won’t do it again. But only because it was clearly bad luck for the team with that loss. I know you’re a superstitious lot.”

I lift my brows at him. “Who’s superstitious?”

“Afternoon, ma’am,” he says to the next woman in line. “You ready

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