Happily Ever All-Star: A Secret Baby Romance - Sosie Frost Page 0,307

with headset frequencies during plays. You know that we’ve even signed players cut by division rivals, just to keep up with the intel other teams have on us. All you need to do is take a couple pictures.”

“And if the Rivets wouldn’t do this?”

“If everyone else has a leg up, we better do it too before we get pissed on.”

I didn’t believe him. “What if I get caught?”

“Not going to happen. You’re…you.”

Insulted? Frustrated? Trapped within the worst job opportunity imaginable?

“Because I’m a woman?” I asked. “No one would will think twice about a woman taking pictures?”

“Sure. If anyone gets suspicious, just…take some selfies with your back to the field. They’ll assume you’re a beautiful woman enjoying the sun in Gainesville. Take Wednesday and Thursday. Head down, enjoy the sights, and come back with all the pictures you can get me.”

“But what about the Rivets’ camp? I need to do my job here.”

“Elle, this is your job now.”

I stiffened. Cheating was my job…and it’d mean my job if I didn’t do it.

Damn it. This was my dream career. The perfect opportunity. I could cross the country, visit anywhere I liked, see everything I wanted. I had a good paycheck throughout the year, and plenty of time in the off-season to travel, see the sights, pick up the occasional wedding party or summer sports event to earn extra money.

I loved every part of this job.

But I valued honesty more.

“Peter, I don’t think I—”

I silenced as someone tugged on my shirt. I expected a giant linebacker or grinning tight-end.

Instead, I faced a rather respectable little boy, maybe five years old, dressed to kill in a perfectly fitted suit. A gold silk cloth tucked into his breast pocket, matching his tie—Rivets’ branded. He stared at me with green eyes the color of a swirling lagoon. His shock of blonde hair was messy, but he furiously smoothed the bangs that fell into his eyes.

He gave me an impatient scowl and shoved a flower into my hand.

“That’s for you,” he said.

The flower was partially crushed, and most of the rose petals inadvertently scattered through the tunnel. The boy had scuffed his dress shoes on the cement all the way up, and the impeccably polished black now scratched-up grey. He fidgeted on alternating legs, but I wasn’t sure if the little guy had to pee or if he was that uncomfortable in his little formal straight-jacket, all buttoned up and debonair like he was James Bond on assignment to deliver me a flower.

And I could guess which mastermind commanded the mission.

“You’re Elle, right?” the boy asked.

I glanced at Peter. He wasn’t eager to continue our conversation. Excellent.

I’d buy the boy some puppies and fireworks as a reward for the interruption.

“Yep, I’m Elle. And you must be…Sebastian.”

He took two deep breaths, started his sentence a couple times, and was still too excited to speak without slurring his words into the cutest mess.

“I was supposed…see, I was looking for you…” His tone shifted between shrill and confused. “I was supposed to tell you…um…”

He was too cute, and he was in danger of me pinching him until he popped. The most adorable five-year-old in the world stared at me with big green eyes, rosy cheeks, and the same puppy-dog wiggles that propelled Lachlan from one side of the field to the other.

“Is the flower from Lachlan?” I asked.

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “I told him to get you an X-Box cause I like Minecraft. But he said girls like flowers. But there’s flowers in Minecraft. And horses. And zombies! I like zombies. Can I go now?”

This kid needed to be stuffed with sugar, pronto. I shrugged towards Peter.

“Sorry. I should go check on my…husband. We’ll iron out the details of my trip later.”

I didn’t give him a chance to respond. I offered my hand to the handsome little messenger. Sebastian scrunched up his nose.

“Do I gotta?”

“Can you take me to your brother?”

“Yeah, but…wait.” he wiggled in the suit, pulling the sleeve down to cover his palm before taking my hand. “There.”

Lachlan waited for us at the edge of the field as practice ended. He broke from the offensive guys chatting a little too close to the ankle tape. He dumped a cup of water over his head, and I pretended that I wasn’t imagining all the muscles the cool trickle touched.

“Using your little brother as a wing-man?” I asked.

Lachlan shrugged. “Did it work?”

“No.”

“Strange.” He nudged his brother. “You’re not gonna find a cuter kid anywhere.”

Sebastian took great offense to that. “I’m