Fool and Her Honey (9781622860791) Read Online Free PDF Page A

too?” I complemented on the sly.
    â€œNaw, just me, just me.”
    â€œThat was just so mortifying.”
    â€œWe all have our moments,” he said and chuckled.
    â€œAnyway! Can you tell the handsome guy you know that I’d love to go with him to one of those practices?”
    â€œI should be talking to him later on today. I’ll see what I can get worked out.”
    â€œSounds great,” I said with a smile. “Maybe he and I can get together before the week is out.”
    â€œOh yeah, he will definitely have time this week.”
    â€œCool!”
    â€œAll right, well, I’m going to get back out here on this field. . . .”
    â€œAnd I’m going to get back to editing my photos,” I threw in, suddenly realizing that I’d lost control of the call and he was trying to end the call with me, instead of the other way around. “My plate is so full.”
    â€œOkay, well, I will call you back this afternoon with a time for later this week.”
    â€œIf you don’t mind, Hamm, can you text me? I have a shoot later on, and I won’t be able to answer.”
    â€œOh, okay.”
    After ending the call, I did a little dance around my studio, excited about the possibilities of dating a new man. A new handsome man who had something going for himself. Yeah. I was liking this church thing. It was working out all right.
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    As promised, Hamm texted me later that afternoon, offering to pick me up on Thursday, at one o’clock, to take me to the University of Phoenix Stadium for a working date. Although I read the text right away, I didn’t confirm until three hours later, then asked if we could make it two o’clock instead, so I wouldn’t seem completely available.
    Thursday seemed to take forever to come around, but when it came, I was ready. I dressed in a pair of tight capri sports pants that rose to only hip level and a stretchy tank that bared my midriff. I pulled on my Nikes, pulled my hair back like I was going jogging, and loaded my camera bag with a few necessary tools to play around and capture some great shots . . . not of the team, but of Hamm.
    It was only a few minutes after two when I saw his car pull up in the lot. Then my cell rang, displaying his number.
    â€œHey, Candis,” he said. “I’m outside in the parking lot. You ready?”
    â€œYep, I’m on my way,” I answered, a bit disappointed that he hadn’t gotten out of his car and walked to the door. “Don’t make it too serious, Candis,” I whispered to myself. “Start as friends. It’s all good.”
    I bounded down the stairs to his car, walked up to the door, and got inside.
    â€œThe way you came flying down those stairs, I guess that ankle is really all healed up,” he said, glancing down at my feet.
    I’d forgotten just that quickly that I was supposed to be getting over an injury. “Yeah, it’s been feeling pretty good for the past few days.”
    â€œGood. Glad to hear it. Have you eaten yet?”
    â€œNot lunch. I had a bagel a few hours ago for breakfast.”
    â€œWell, you need to keep your body fed,” he said, glancing down at my abs. “Let’s grab something before we get out there to the field.”
    With my agreement, we stopped at Chipotle Mexican Grill to grab a couple of burritos, then headed out to Glendale. Hamm took me through the employee gate and gave me a tour of the locker room before we went out to where the players were.
    â€œYou sure they won’t mind me taking photos?”
    â€œNah. You’re with me. It’s cool.”
    I’d never seen so many hard-bodied men so up close and in my reach in my life. Their bodies glistened with sweat, and muscles popped out everywhere on several of them, while a few of them had some rolls that folded over the top of their pants. As taken as I was with Hamm, I found myself lost in a wonderland of flesh and had a