Fumbled (The Girls of Beachmont #1) by T. K. Rapp Read Free Book Online Page B

answered.
    “Mommy isn’t that
crazy,” Gracie said as she entered the room with her laptop in hand. “His last
name wouldn’t happen to be Hunter, would it?”
    My eyes widened at the
name and she had my full attention. She waved me over and I scurried to my
feet, sitting next to her with the computer on the counter. There were tons of
tiny thumbnail pictures of football players, but I still wasn’t following.
    “Okay, just because I
said he’s built like a football player doesn’t mean you and Trevor are going to
get me to watch the damn sport, Gracie.”
    She ignored me and
clicked on a link that brought up a larger image, and my heart stopped.
    The eyes. The smile. The
build. All of it was the man I’d met only days before and I was stunned into
silence.
    “That’s Tabor,” I
whispered, unable use my full voice.
    “ That’s JT Hunter, Dani. Star defensive lineman for the Quakes,” she
informed me.
    “You have got to be
kidding me,” I said, shaking my head. “There’s no way that Tabor is a
professional football player. He would have said something,” I said. “Wouldn’t
he?”
    Gracie didn’t respond.
Instead she clicked on another link and biographical information about Tabor
appeared on the screen.

 
    Born Jordan Tabor Hunter on October 15, 1989 in Chicago, IL.

 
    “How did you know it was
the same guy?” I asked, still staring at the screen, my hand covering my mouth.
    “You know JT is my
favorite player and Tabor isn’t exactly a common name, Dani,” she answered.
“Besides, you said he’s built like a football player and it just clicked.
Question is, how did you not know it
was him?”
    “You said it yourself:
I’m not the football fan.”
    “ Everyone knows who he is.”
    I stared at her blankly
and she shook her head.
    “Yeah, I know, look who
I’m talking to: the woman who hates football.”
    “I don’t hate it, I just
don’t watch it,” I laughed.
    “You’re missing out.
Tight uniforms, bulging muscles…do I need to go on?” She sighed, lost in her
own world.
    “You know how Dad is.
During football season, nothing else exists. So yeah, sorry that I’m not a diehard
like you,” I teased.
    “How are we even
related?” Grace laughed. “We need to do a blood test or something.”
    “Agreed,” I said
straight-faced. “Or maybe I was born without the football gene.”
    Cleo started squealing
loudly and banging her toys on the counter. I swooped down and picked her up,
turning my back to the computer screen as I walked into the living room.
    “You’re going out with
JT Hunter,” Gracie said, her eyes glazing over.
    “No, I’m going out with
Tabor,” I corrected and then gave Cleo my attention. “Isn’t that right?” I said
in a silly voice. She started laughing and I set her down at her play kitchen.
    Gracie sat on the floor
next to me and opened the screen, cycling through the various pictures of JT Hunter—Football Star—Most
Eligible Bachelor—Sexiest Man in the City . “Do you see this?”
    “I see it, but what’s
your point?”
    “Dani, you freakin’ met
JT Hunter. JT Hunter changed your tire. And you gave your phone number to JT
Hunter and now you are going out with JT Hunter,” she shouted before jumping around
excitedly.
    “Say ‘JT Hunter’ again
and maybe I’ll get it,” I joked.
    “JT Hunter,” she said
and I laughed.
    “Nope,” I argued. “I met
Tabor.”
    “Please don’t act stupid
right now,” she said, rolling her eyes.
    “For whatever reason, he
introduced himself as Tabor. So let’s just leave it at that for now. Okay?”
    “Fine,” Gracie said,
raising her hands in surrender.
    “You know, it makes
sense now,” I offered.
    “What does?”
    “When I asked him to
take his sunglasses off, he was hesitant. I guess now I know why.”
    “And that is?”
    I shrugged. “He thought
I’d recognize him.”
    “Um. Yeah! That’s
because most women in San Diego
would. But then again, you’re not most women.” She