Cooking Up a Kiss: A Sweet Small-Town Romantic Comedy (Button Blossom Sweet Rom Com Series Book 4) by Rachael Eliker

Author:Rachael Eliker [Eliker, Rachael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: BHF Creative Works
Published: 2023-05-09T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Trixie

“Alright, everyone huddle up.” Locke clapped and everyone on the team formed a tight circle, our heads ducked. “Now, I know everyone agreed this game is for fun. C’mon. We all know that’s a load of hooey. You might be content with being the losers, but not me. I intend on winning. I won’t be listening to Clint or anyone else on their team strutting around and crowing like proud roosters if they pull off a win. Obviously, they have Preacher McNeil over there. So what? One man can’t out-compete all of us.”

At the mention of his name, I lifted my gaze just high enough so I could search for Preacher. The second I’d showed up at the park and spotted him, casually tossing the football with Asher, my pulse had picked up the pace, trotting like a nervous Thoroughbred waiting for the race to start. It had refused to slow down since. I watched him throw and catch, throw and catch. The smooth motion of his body was mesmerizing. His sinewy muscles worked so seamlessly to propel the football to Asher.

Preacher’s throws were controlled and gentle so Asher would feel proud of himself for catching it. No doubt Preacher could have thrown it hard enough that Asher would have been knocked into the dust. Even though Preacher was invested in his casual game with Asher, it hadn’t taken him long to notice I’d arrived. The smile that lit up Preacher’s face when he caught sight of me didn’t help my resolve. We were supposed to be keeping things superficial and amicable between us. I hadn’t even kissed Preacher. Not since our dunk in Long Rock Lake.

And not like I hadn’t been thinking about it. I could still feel the warmth of his mouth on—

“Reynolds!” Locke barked.

Oakley and I answered in unplanned unison. “What?”

“Keep your head in the game.” Locke must’ve caught me peering over his head at the other team. I had a straight shot of Preacher bending over and dang it if those athletic shorts didn’t show off his perfectly formed glutes. Tapping his temple with the tip of the football, Locke said, “Ninety percent of this game is up here.”

Oakley derided him with a snort. “I’m pretty sure you can’t run the football into the end zone with your mind.”

Parker laughed, giving her a fist bump. “I was going to say the same thing. There’s definitely a little more athleticism going on in football.”

“You know what I mean,” Locke snarled like a wounded animal.

Lacing a loose strand of hair behind my ear, I attempted to deflect the attention off the indisputable fact that I’d been caught lusting after Preacher’s backside. Any woman who had a clear shot like I did couldn’t possibly not risk a glance with something so glorious on display. Heck, I’m pretty sure I’d seen Granny gawking from her fold out rocker she’d situated in the shade.

Pushing down a blush, I hushed my voice. It was a ruse, as if I was preventing anyone in the other huddle from hearing.

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