Page 52 of Game Plan

She stares at me as our drinks are delivered.

“If you think my fiancée won’t be wearing a ring, you’re crazy,” I say. But it’s clear she’s a bit unnerved by the idea. “Maybe this will make you feel better. When I left your house earlier, I called Chuck to let him know what was going on.”

“Okay …”

“And one of the first offers to come in was from Siggy’s.”

Her mouth hangs open. “Siggy’s? You’re joking.”

“I take it you’re a fan.”

She shakes her head, laughing softly. “I think I’m living in a twilight zone.”

I laugh, too. “Part of their offer includes an engagement ring and a wedding band—which we won’t need,” I say, adding the last part so she doesn’t squirm. “I have an email right now with a preliminary offer.”

“You don’t have to pay for the ring, right?”

“Nope. Consider it a perk.”

Our food arrives, and Patrick refills our water glasses. Poppy chitchats with him, to my amusement. His face is flushed as he scurries away.

“This looks great,” I say, appreciating the steak, crispy potatoes, and seasonal vegetables. “How’s that truffle mac and cheese?”

She smiles. “It looks delicious. Patrick promised it was the best thing on the menu. So far, so good.”

We enjoy our meal, the food melting in our mouths. Poppy tells me about Joshua and the party he’s planning and how she’s always wanted to throw a big celebration. This is news to me. But it’s also a piece of information I tuck away in case it’s helpful later.

“Excuse me.” An older woman, dressed impeccably, stops by our table. “Poppy Quinn? I thought that was you.”

Poppy looks up. “Marie, hi. How are you?”

Marie glances at me before sliding her attention back to Poppy. “I’m great. I saw you come in but wasn’t totally sure it was you. How have you been?”

“Great, actually.” She swallows, humor toying on her lips. “Marie, I’d like you to meet my fiancé, Finn Miller. Finn, this is Marie Huntington. She’s an independent insurance agent that I’ve known for years.”

“My fiancé, Finn Miller.” I bite back a grin as fire rolls through my veins. Fuck, I like the sound of that.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I say, not looking at Poppy. If I do, things might get R-rated fast.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” Marie says. “You’re a football player, aren’t you? My late husband was a big fan.”

Poppy grins beside me.

“That’s very nice of you to say,” I say, stretching an arm across the back of Poppy’s chair. “And I’m sorry to hear about his passing.”

“Thank you. It’s been a couple of years, but the pain never quite goes away.” She sighs. “But let’s not make this about me. You two are engaged. How wonderful. Have you set a date?”

I glance at Poppy to see if she wants me to take this question, but she has it under control.

“We’re not in a hurry,” Poppy says. “It’ll probably be sometime next year. I think an autumn ceremony would be beautiful, but we have to wait and see what Finn decides to do about retirement.”

Wow. I’m impressed.

And turned on.

I rest a hand on her thigh, squeezing it hard enough for her to feel it. Poppy continues chatting away with Marie, not acknowledging me at all. Yet she grabs my wrist and pulls my hand higher up her leg.

My fingers slip beneath the fabric of her dress and trail up the inside of her thigh. Her skin is so soft, so hot, that the contact sends a ripple of heat through my body.