“Oh. Sure.”

He needed to get away from her, away from the looks she was giving him. Otherwise he was never going to leave.

He downed the contents of the glass in three gulps, mentally thinking of football plays and strategies for the game as he did. Getting his mind off Katrina and onto the game helped. By the time he turned back to her, she had moved into the kitchen, putting some space between them.

“I’ll get tickets to you for Sunday’s game.”

She nodded. “Great. The kids will like that.”

“I’ll talk to you.”

He walked out the door, feeling like he’d left unfinished business in there.

He had.

Katrina.

TEN

KATRINA HAD NEVER BEEN TO A PROFESSIONAL FOOTBALL game before. She’d watched games on TV with Leo and Anya, and she liked football, but she didn’t know as much about the game as they did.

When the tickets had been messengered over, Leo had been so excited he’d had to text all his friends about going to the game, and that Grant Cassidy himself had gotten them tickets.

He’d even gotten a haircut, which had shocked her.

She was amused by his fanboy attitude. Leo was always so laid back, like he didn’t care about anything. Who knew he was such a football fanatic? She wished she’d known earlier so she could have gotten him into football.

Though she wasn’t sure she would have agreed to it without Grant’s influence and suggestion. She still thought it was a rough sport.

And now she could see all the players up close—though they were in a club box, so it wasn’t like they were on the field or anything. But still, it wasn’t like watching it on television. She was seeing it live, and those guys were so big, so muscular, and as she shifted her attention to her little brother, she couldn’t fathom how he could compete with men like that. To her, he would always be that vulnerable five-year-old, confused about where Momma had gone, and looking to her for love and guidance because she was all he had left.

Maybe she’d been a little overprotective of him and Anya, but they were all she had, too, and she wasn’t about to let anything happen to them.

“Aren’t these seats great?” Anya asked, plopping down in one of the cushioned seats in the skybox. “I can’t believe we get to sit here and watch the game. Free food, too.”

Her sister had a plate filled with all kinds of interesting foods. Leo pulled up a seat next to his sister, food in one hand, a can of soda in the other.

“Glad you two are settled. I guess I’ll find myself something to eat.”

“Oh, and a woman I met up there said this was one of the boxes where team family members sat, so you should introduce yourself as Grant’s wife.” Anya snickered at her.

Katrina rolled her eyes. “You’re so funny.”

She went over to the food table. Anya was right. There was an amazing array of delicacies to be had. She couldn’t decide, so she stood there, surveying everything.

“It’s hard to reconcile what your stomach wants with what your common sense and waistline tells you not to eat.”

Katrina turned to find a gorgeous blonde standing next to her. “I might just say the hell with common sense and my waistline.”

The woman held out her hand. “I’m Savannah Riley. And you’re Katrina Korsova.”

“I am. Nice to meet you.”

“I’ve seen your pictures like … everywhere, and I’ve caught a few of your runway shows. I’m a big fan.”

“Thank you.” Typically women didn’t like her. This was a surprise.

“I didn’t know you were dating one of the Traders.”

“I’m not. I only recently met Grant Cassidy. We did a photo shoot together. He offered my brother and sister and me tickets to the game today.”

“Oh, Grant. I like him. Where are your brother and sister?”

“Stuffing their faces over there on the back row of seats.” She pointed them out.

Savannah looked over where Katrina had gestured. “I see them. Teenagers, huh? Such a fun age.”

“Yeah, unless you’re in charge of raising them.”

Savannah arched a brow. “You’re their guardian?”

“I am.”

“Oh, Katrina. We need some wine. And some of this great food, too. You have to tell me your story.”

At Katrina’s hesitation, Savannah laid a hand on her arm. “Trust me, I’m not press. I’m an image consultant, and I’m married to Cole Riley, wide receiver for the Traders.”