talk to a baby, but I couldn’t ignore a woman. Piper wouldn’t let me.
My voice was a hoarse rasp after yelling to my guys on the field. “I sleep-in after games.”
“Well, you’ve missed all the fun today.” Piper seated the baby in a high chair. I guessed I had a high chair now. “We’re not used to all this room. Rosie can just run, run, run. We even played a bit in the garden. It’s absolutely beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like the roses there.”
I shrugged. What the hell did she want flowers for? The prettiest Rose was sitting next to her, sticking Cheerios in her nose.
And Piper kept on talking.
“So we went for a long walk and looked over the grounds. And I showed her the pool. We’ll try it out after lunch. I’ve never taken her swimming, but I think she’ll love it.”
I abandoned my plans to swim laps, even though it was the only exercise my body could handle. I’d retreat to the weight room instead. Do a little cardio before the team meeting and film review at four o’clock.
Piper scrunched her nose as I heated premade chicken breast and freezer-burnt vegetables in the microwave.
“If you like, I was going to make spaghetti for dinner,” she said.
“I don’t do carbs before Friday.”
That was harsher than I meant it. Piper arched an eyebrow. Christ, she saw right through me.
“So…you’re still upset about the game?”
I could handle her invading my space. I could make allowances for her living here. I might have even tolerated conversations in the morning as we passed in the kitchen.
But I wasn’t talking about what I’d felt during the game. Not now, not ever.
“You actually watched it?” I asked.
Piper dropped the pleasantries. “I called the Monarchs this morning.”
“And?”
“They said the penalty was an overreaction, but we’re waiting to hear from the league if they want to issue a fine.”
“Of course.”
“If they fine you, I’ll appeal it.”
Feisty little thing, acting big and bad in her sunshine yellow dress while teasing a baby with a spoonful of cereal. I knew she’d fight it for me. Made her as adorable as she was naïve.
“Don’t waste your time,” I said. “Frank Bennett will fine me for looking cross-eyed at a quarterback. Let them bill me and be done with it.”
“But it isn’t fair.”
“The game’s hardly fair.”
Piper sat at the counter, drumming her nails. “I don’t understand what happened at the end of the game. You sacked their quarterback, and there was no time left on the clock. Why did the offense get another play?”
I lowered my fork. “You don’t know a thing about football, do you?”
She took the insult as poorly as I thought she would. Her voice edged harder, and I got the distinct impression she wanted me to choke on my breakfast. The woman sucked at being confrontational.
“I’m reading an instructional book,” she said.
“You can’t learn from a book. Christ. The game can’t end on a defensive penalty. They called unnecessary roughness on me, so the Cougars got another snap, even though there wasn’t time on the clock. They scored on that play and won.” I set my plate aside. “How’d you make it this far in your Dad’s agency without learning anything about football?”
Piper didn’t aim for my jugular, so I got off easy. “I can read a contract. I can build a case file. I understand accounting and taxes. I can—”
“Get coffee for the office?”
“You got me, big shot.” Piper shrugged. “My daddy never taught me how to play football. Boo hoo. At least I’m trying to figure it out now.”
“I don’t think you can learn it by yourself.”
“Not like you want to teach me.”
I considered taking the challenge. It might have distracted me, silenced some of the dirtier thoughts as Piper leaned over the counter with a neckline that plunged just enough to tease me for looking.
Christ, she sat so casually in my kitchen.
Like she belonged there.
Like she had always been there.
I motioned for her to stay where she was and retrieved my playbook and iPad. Piper said nothing, offering Rose some cut-up fruit with her cereal.
The playbook crashed onto the counter. Rose giggled so hard I almost did it again.
“Uh-oh,” Piper said.
Rose agreed. “Uh-oh.”
“Get comfortable,” I said. “This will take a while.”
She stared at the playbook, eyes wide. “What are you doing?”
“Teaching you football.”
“Are you serious?”
I pointed to the book. “Lesson one. Me.”
Piper laughed. “Cole, you don’t have to—”
“I play linebacker. That means I eat quarterbacks. This is where I line up for