Charity Case - The Complete Series - Piper Rayne Page 0,242

hit each other. Roarke is talking to Sean in the corner, inspecting some helmets.

“Water break!” the assistant next to me screams and I smack at a bug sucking on my neck.

“Being near these woods sucks,” one of the boys who raced over to the sidelines says. “I guess that’s why they call us Woods Parlor.” A young kid squirts a stream of water into his mouth and then over his face.

Big blue eyes, sandy blonde hair. He’s a heartbreaker in the making I’m sure.

“I guess so.”

His eyes feast on me and I’m afraid I’ll be the cougar fantasy in his spank bank later tonight. “You’re Mr. Baldwin’s girl?”

Two more boys join him, more interested in the cheerleading practice going on behind me than speaking with me.

“I’m not his girl,” I say.

His lips quirk up. “Why not? He’s got to be a catch what with how rich he is.”

I shrug. “Money’s not everything.”

“It is when you have nothing.” The kid squirts more water in his mouth and swishes it around for a second before spitting it out in front of him. His two teammates nearby are practically drooling over the girls behind me.

The kid’s words ring out in my head and a new stream of questions to ask Roarke form in my head. Why did he ever choose to become a divorce attorney?

“If it wasn’t for Mr. Baldwin, we wouldn’t have the new concussion helmets.” He nods and I look over to see Roarke placing one on top of a player’s head. “We’d be playing with uniforms from when he played fifty years ago.”

“Fifty seems a little drastic, no?” I chuckle. Oh to be young again.

The kid’s eyebrows crinkle.

“Did he pay you to tell me what a great guy he is?” I ask, half serious.

Again with the crinkled brows. “I never do what I’m asked.”

“True story,” one of the friends who I thought was paying no attention says.

“Just ask Principal Montgomery,” the other friend chimes in.

“He’s the most successful person to come out of Woods Parlor and never abandoned us.”

“Water break over.” The assistant coach smacks their backs and the boys squirt more water into their mouths and drop the bottles to the ground before running back to the field.

My gaze ventures to Roarke and Sean again, they’re shaking hands.

As I watch Roarke across the field, my gut churns because if he wanted me here to prove that he wasn’t the person I assumed he was, it’s working. He’s so much more and so much better than I ever thought.

Damn it all to hell…I’m falling for him.

Chapter Eighteen

Roarke and I arrive at the church for the rehearsal that evening. For some reason, after meeting her, I didn’t picture Allie marrying in a church.

This time it’s not Allie barreling toward me, but a woman with dark loose hair hanging down around her face. She’s wearing a dress probably one size too small, her feet fighting against the straps of her sandals.

“Roarke, baby,” she coos like he’s a five-year-old.

Please tell me this isn’t Edie.

“Hi, Mom,” Roarke says not giving her a full hug, but more of the acquaintance version of one.

Edie pulls back, her hands gripping his like she’s looking him over.

Her judgment should end in an A-plus. It was all I could do not to jump him when I stepped out of the bathroom at the motel. Dark charcoal slacks, a simple white button-down with the top two buttons undone, the usual silver watch adorning his wrist. He’s a more casual version of his usual self, but still as edible as ever, let me tell you.

“Always too dressed up. You’re in Woods Parlor for heaven’s sake.” She waves him off with her hand. “You could have worn jeans.”

I briefly appraise my own outfit. I’m wearing a wine colored dress that ends above my knee and a pair of sandals with a heel that would usually challenge the height of a man. Not Roarke though, thank goodness.

Edie’s gaze shifts to me and my mouth suddenly dries.

“Hannah, right?” she asks.

She doesn’t pull me in for a hug or even smile for that matter. Instead, her hand extends regally, like she’s meeting the queen. Except it’s almost as if I should kiss her hand. I’m understanding Roarke’s hesitancy with me meeting her.

“Hi, Mrs… Edie.”

I awkwardly go to shake her hand, unsure of what to do but then a loud laugh erupts from her, echoing through the tall ceilings and wooden beams of the old church.

“I’m kidding. Come here you!” She wraps herself around my middle,