Winning With Him by Lauren Blakely

Winning With Him by Lauren Blakely

Author:Lauren Blakely [Blakely, Lauren]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lauren Blakely Books


An hour later, I spot Declan in the ballroom, and I’m not in love with the shortstop anymore.

But I could be.

I absolutely could be.

23

Declan

I’m bringing a date to the awards tonight—someone nearly twice my age, half a foot shorter, and wearing the hell out of a blue dress on a cold San Francisco night.

Arm in arm, my mother and I walk into the event hotel on Union Street.

“I would say you’ll have to introduce me to everyone,” she says as we wait in line for the event photographer to snap our shots, “but this old gal knows the rosters of all the major sports.”

“You might as well run a fantasy baseball league,” I tease.

“Who says I don’t?”

When it’s our turn for a pic on the red carpet, I greet the guy behind the camera.

“San Francisco hasn’t been the same without you, Steele,” he quips. “Oh wait, it has. The team finally won a World Series.”

My mom hoots. “Go Cougars!”

“Really, Mom?” I ask, outraged, as the photographer cracks up.

“Really, Declan,” she says, gleeful as a naughty kid.

I usher her away from the photo wall. “Seriously, woman. I’ll have to leave you at home. You can’t root for the other team in public.”

She covers her lips with her hand in an apologetic oops! But I’m not buying it.

Shaking my head, I place a hand on her back to guide her into the ballroom. We make our way through the crowd, catching up with old friends like Crosby and Chance, reconnecting with newer ones like Holden Kingsley, who just joined the city’s other baseball team—the San Francisco Dragons.

I say hello, too, to Nadia Harlowe, the young owner of the city’s football team. I met her a couple years ago in New York and we’ve been friendly ever since—so much so, that we make plans to share omelets tomorrow morning for a post-event debrief.

But the whole time, my heart is skittering, and I’m all kinds of distracted, watching for a glimpse of Grant.

Everyone here is sporting a tux, so I’m hunting through a sea of black, then hoping my eagerness isn’t too obvious.

My mom and I are standing at a high table, chatting with Holden, when I spot him.

Dark blond hair that looks like he just swept his fingers through it, strong shoulders, and a broad chest that I know sports a mountain tattoo, an arrow, and a nipple barbell.

My senses toss me back in time to how it felt to touch his skin.

Does he have more ink?

Will I ever find out?

“Yes, I heard Night Darling is in town this weekend,” my mom is telling Holden.

“Love that band,” he says, and soon my mom is trading music recommendations with the new Dragon.

That’s my cue to make myself scarce, while she’s engaged in conversation.

“Be right back,” I say, then shoulder my way through the crowd.

Almost immediately, I lose track of Grant. I search the crowd for him, my heart pounding with anticipation and frustration. This is useless, and I can’t abandon my mom for long. I’ll have to find him later.



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