Chapter 13 #2
“Alright then, I have to ask if you’ve seen the irony about a fox”—I point at the River Foxes hoodie he’s wearing—“tending chickens. Tell me about this.”
His eyes dance. They’re even bluer than I remember. “What do you want to know?”
“Is it weird for you … or for them … to be grilling their brethren right in front of them?”
TJ laughs out loud. It’s a rich, intoxicating sound, like a caramel waterfall over ice cream. “Wow, you really went there.”
“It’s a logical jump,” I tell him, sitting up straighter.
He bobs his head. “I guess so, if your brain is all morbid like that.”
“Rude.” I stick up my nose, but I’m fighting against a smile.
He chuckles. “I got them last spring. I had them growing up, and I loved tending to the chickens. Taught me responsibility and all that stuff. The fresh eggs are nice too.”
“Aren’t they cold out there?” I peer toward the window where I can make out the frame of the chicken coop.
“Nah. I have the heartiest breeds. Wisconsin winters don’t bother them. I built the coop myself and made sure they had some inside spaces to get out of the wind on the really frigid days.”
“Chicken keeper,” I say with a shake of my head. “That is not in your bio.”
He arches his eyebrows. “I feel like I’m at a disadvantage here. You’ve had an entire week to get to know everything there is to know about me—”
“I do have other ways to spend my time,” I interrupt him, even as my flushed cheeks are back, because he’s not wrong.
“The point stands. I don’t know anything about you, except what you told me at the gala.” He tips his head to the side, waiting for me to argue, I’m sure. I don’t really have a leg to stand on here. He’s right. He knows it. I know it.
“You can ask me what you want to ask,” I say.
“Are you going to answer me?”
“Depends on the question.”
“Keeping up your track record as my mystery woman, I see.”
I ignore the way my heart flutters at the thought of being his and shrug noncommittally.
“Alright then. How’d you end up living in Green Bay? Or around here, at least?”
“After everything that happened earlier this year,” I begin, “I told my family it would be best for me to fly under the radar and not be front and center when our show started filming this fall. So I ended up here.”
Dinner with the Duprees is currently filming its third season. My stepmom is so proud of the family empire she’s built. I would hate to be the reason ratings drop. It’s for the best that I left the spotlight for a while.
“Yeah, but why here?” TJ asks, taking a sip of wine but keeping his eyes on me over the rim of the glass.
He could have asked about my family. About the show. But I’m grateful he’s not steering the conversation in that direction. It’s nice not to dwell on my monumental screw-up.
“Honestly?” I tell him. “When Anton Bates’s love story blew up last winter, I did some research on this part of the country. Cashmere Cove seemed like an idyllic little spot, and I figured it was as good a place as any to settle in for a while, so here I am.”
TJ scoffs. “You’re kidding me. This is going to go straight to Anton’s head. Don’t ever tell him he’s your inspiration.”
“Are you sure you’re not just jealous you aren’t my only source of inspiration?”
His gaze lasers in on me, eyes darkening to a more navy blue. “I can be all the inspiration you need, Lucy. Name the time and the place, and I’m your man.”
I drop my gaze, because good night, the gravel in his voice is making my insides do Olympics-worthy flips.
He has no idea he’s already given me enough content for ten different romance novels.
He’s not going to know that, either, because that is something I’ll be keeping to myself, thank you very much.
When I lift my eyes to meet his again, he’s staring at me with intensity that sets the blood in my veins on fire.
“Next question,” I murmur.
TJ opens his mouth, but then his phone chirps, and he reaches for it, silencing the alarm. “Gotta check on the chicken. Hold that thought.”
I use the precious couple of minutes alone to give myself a pep talk.
No more flirting. No more mentions of inspiration. Come on, Lu. Act natural.
The problem is, I am not natural.
“Such a pretty face, but then she opens her mouth, and yikes.”
The words from the comments section on one of the many People’s Picks articles resound like a clashing gong in my mind.
I swallow a couple of times, trying not to replay all the words that other people have said about me, and reminding myself that TJ knows who I am now.
He’s not holding it against me. At least, not right now.
I get a sense of peace at the realization, and by the time he comes back inside, I’m not quite so sick to my stomach. I still don’t know exactly what to talk about, but at least I don’t feel like I’m going to hyperventilate in his living room.
“Chicken’ll be a couple more minutes,” he says.
I nod. “This is a great house.” I sweep my gaze around the living room.
“Thanks.” TJ cracks a proud grin. “I love it. My commute is simple, and there’s something about disappearing into the normalcy of a neighborhood that I really appreciate.”
“How’d you end up in Green Bay?” I ask.
“Haven’t you read up on all the details of my life?”
“I’d like to hear it from you.”
He smiles at that. “I was drafted by the River Foxes straight out of college. They signed me for a three-year contract. When that was up, my agent negotiated a contract extension, so I’m here for a couple more years at least. I love this town, and I can’t imagine playing anywhere else, but that’s the nature of the job. ”
“I didn’t realize that’s how it worked.” I tip my head to the side. It has to be tough to think about being shuffled to a different team after working hard and putting down roots in one place. “I wasn’t lying when I told you that I don’t know the first thing about football.”
“What did you think of the games?”
“They were—” I search for the right word. “Entertaining.”
He doesn’t need to know that what I mean is he was entertaining. Because he was the only player I could focus on.
His smile is broad. “We aim to entertain.”
“I could tell,” I say, letting myself smile.
“I didn’t figure you’d actually tune in.”
I shrug. “Didn’t have much else to do.”
“Come on, a woman like you with no social life? I don’t believe it.”
“Yeah, well.” I shrug again. “I burned every bridge I’ve ever had, and it’s not like I’m flying home to see my family regularly.
My friends who haven’t disowned me live in different corners of the country; I talk to them often, but not in person.
I’m kind of a lone wolf. Or whatever the female version of a lone wolf is. Jane Wolf? Wolfette?”
I snap my mouth shut. What am I even saying?
TJ laughs, and I steel myself. I’m used to people making fun of me, but when I meet his gaze, his expression is open and kind, and my shoulders relax.
“I’ve never thought about the name of a female wolf,” he says, like he’s actually considering what I was saying as a valid point and not something ridiculous my frazzled brain blabbed on about.
“I think maybe girl wolves are just called wolves.” I splay my hands out in a I have no clue what I’m talking about, so ignore me gesture.
“Either way. I like Wolfette. You’ll be a wolfette in my eyes from now on.” He winks, and something snaps and sizzles behind my ribcage. “Let me go get our dinner.”
TJ serves me a plate full of delicious-smelling chicken, a heaping portion of Caesar salad, and, as promised, a bunch of juicy green grapes. He stops to pray before we eat, which is unexpected, but sweet, and then he raises his wine glass. “To finding my Cinderella.”
I dip my head, but clink my glass with his before adding a toast of my own. “To a River Foxes victory.”
“Cheers.” TJ holds my gaze, and if I were writing this scene into a story, I’d have included candles on the table so I could comment on the way his blue eyes sparkled in the flickering light of the dancing flames.
Instead, we’re seated at his tiny kitchen table beneath a chandelier from the nineties that casts the room in an orange glow.
I don’t mind it one bit. We sip our wine and dig in.
I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I had food in front of me.
“Can I get you anything else?” TJ asks when I polish off my last bite of chicken.
“No. I’m good. Thank you.” I dab my mouth with my napkin. “I ate like a pig. Or a wolf … ette, I guess.”
He chuckles. “I’m glad. Proves that I know my way around my grill.”
“I didn’t eat much today. I was nervous about meeting you.”
He swirls his wine around in his glass. “Why?”
I may as well be honest.
“Because you’re you, and I’m me. I didn’t know how you’d react.”
He keeps his gaze on me. “I’m surprised, but in a good way.”
Even without the candlelight, the air in the kitchen takes on a different type of charge. Like the electrons are winning out and all the molecules between us are crackling.
“I still don’t want anything more from you,” I hurry to clarify, because this feels dangerous, and I don’t want to give him the wrong impression.
“I don’t recall offering you anything more than dinner.” He smirks.
I press my lips together. “Right. Of course.”
Why am I assuming TJ Wilson would want anything to do with me romantically? Hello, Lu. Have you seen the women he dates? They’re usually blonde and gregarious and gorgeous.
“That doesn’t mean—”
The back door to TJ’s house swings open with a bang.