Playing for Keeps (Texas Scoundrels) by Jamie Denton Page B

Jed was doing right now. Now that she thought about it, Ross was so self-serving he only bothered to attend functions that might have helped him impress his clients. Instead of going to one of Austin’s games to support their son, he’d done so to show people that he was a great family man. What a crock of crap. Ross may have been the only father Austin had ever known, but in twenty minutes, Jed, the very last man on earth she’d ever expected, was more of a father than Ross had ever been.
    “He must get it from his father,” she whispered, her throat too choked with emotion to manage much else.  
    A tear escaped and slid down her cheek. Jed slowly lifted his hand and cupped her cheek in his palm, the pad of his thumb wiping the moisture away. “Why the tears?” he asked, his voice a low, intimate sound that scraped against her emotions.
    She couldn’t speak, the gentleness in his tone, the warmth of his touch, unnerved her. She shook her head and pulled away when all she wanted to do was lean into him and kiss him again. But she didn’t. How could she when she couldn’t even tell him her fears were coming to fruition? That he wasn’t the worthless prick she’d initially believed?
    She turned her attention to the court and pretended to watch the Stallion cheerleaders’ half-time routine, wondering how to tell him that if he was willing to be a father to Austin, she wouldn’t stand in his way. Oh, she’d fight him to the end if he ever tried to take her son from her, but deep in her heart, she believed Jed had the capability to be good for Austin. This Jed, the proud father, not the man who drank too much or played too hard and would only be a bad influence on her impressionable son.  
    “Excuse me.” A young man approached them. “Aren’t you Jed Maitland?”  
    “Yeah,” he said and looked at the teenage boy.  
    “Could I have your autograph, Sir?” he asked, thrusting a pen and paper napkin in front of Jed.  
    “Sure. What’s your name?” he asked the boy.
    Griffen looked away. What was she thinking? As the kid praised Jed, telling him how much he admired him, she realized she had to be out of her mind to even think of him as good enough to be anything but a bad influence to Austin. Jed Maitland was not father material. He was a celebrity, a professional football player with the morals of a starved mongrel. Even if he did want to play a role in Austin’s life, what kind of role would that be? Give his son season passes and see him only when he managed to be competing locally?
    “Sorry about that,” Jed said when the boy hurried off to show his friends. “It goes with the territory.”
    “I imagine it does,” she replied. Jed didn’t say a word about her snippy tone, so she kept her attention on the court as the boys filed back into the gym.  
    The crowd cheered when the Stallions returned, and Jed cheered right along with them. She wanted to yell at him to stop. This was a one time shot for him. He wasn’t going to come to Austin’s games in the future. He wouldn’t be there to help Austin when he took ninth grade algebra next year or the following year when he studied U.S. history and biology. He wouldn’t be around to fix flat bike tires or give driving lessons. And while it might be his area of expertise, he certainly wouldn’t be around to offer his son advice when it came to the opposite sex.
    She kept silent for the remainder of the game, but no less aware of Jed beside her. By the time the game ended, her mood hadn’t improved. The Stallions lost by a basket, but since this was the last regular season game, a celebration was still in order.
    “The team’s going for pizza,” she told Jed as she stood. “I’ll take you back to your car.”
    From his seat on the bleachers, he looked up at her. “Mind if I tag along?”
    Of course she minded. “I’m not sure you’ll enjoy it. It’s noisy and crowded. Kids running all over—”
    “I remember what it’s like.” Jed