Skin in the Game Read Online Free Page A

chickadee,” he said. “How was Pirates today?”
    Angie grinned at the joke. He knew perfectly well it was called Pilates, but he couldn’t resist poking fun at the name. “Good. We said ‘Ar’ the whole time.”
    “Then we have something in common, because I’ve been saying ‘Ar’—and worse—at this all afternoon.” He nodded toward the TV.
    A quick glance at the screen told her why he was annoyed: the Vikings were down by four touchdowns in the fourth quarter. And their backup quarterback—who didn’t even look old enough to shave, let alone play in the NFL—was taking the snaps.
    Angie frowned. “Where’s Harris? Are they just protecting him since there was no chance of a comeback or was he injured earlier in the game?”
    Her father’s eyes flew wide open. “Neither. Didn’t you hear? He was in a car accident on the I-35E this morning. Ten car pile-up.”
    Angie’s stomach did a nosedive. “Oh God, he’s not—?”
    “No, no, nothing that serious. But the news reports say he has a broken leg—or maybe an ankle—although the team hasn’t confirmed anything yet. Anyway, he obviously couldn’t play today after being banged up like that.”
    Her insides relaxed a bit. “Well, that’s a relief. Still, they’ll have to get someone else to play quarterback.”
    Her dad snorted. “If they don’t, I’m going to become a Packers fan.”
    Angie pressed her hand to her heart and pretended she was about to swoon. “You wouldn’t.”
    “You’re right. I’ll become a Cowboys fan, instead.”
    “Oh, now you’re hitting below the belt.” If there was one team that every member of the Peterson family had agreed to hate, it was the Dallas Cowboys. With the Packers, it was rivalry, but the Cowboys they all despised on principle alone.
    Her dad chuckled. “So, what’s for dinner tonight?”
    A pang of guilt stabbed her in the stomach. She rarely missed a Sunday dinner with her father, and she never did so at the drop of a hat. Although her mother had died four years ago now, Angie hadn’t quite shaken her fear of losing her father, too. Making sure he remained healthy and didn’t sink into depression due to loneliness was the reason she continued to live in the “apartment” over the garage instead of getting a place of her own.
    So why hadn’t she thought of that before she’d accepted Cade’s invitation tonight? The truth was, she hadn’t because the day of the week had completely slipped her mind. If she’d remembered it was Sunday, she would have said no.
    Maybe.
    She swallowed her remorse and said, a little too quickly, “I have a date tonight.”
    Her dad leaned forward, instantly intrigued. A little too intrigued. “A date? With whom?”
    She knew his interest was neither prying nor jealous. He’d made it clear for some time now that he thought she should date, that he wasn’t an invalid and could handle a few nights alone. Angie knew this was true, but what was the point of dating when she couldn’t do anything more than that? She sure as heck wasn’t going to move a boyfriend or husband into her father’s house, but she couldn’t move out and leave him all alone, either.
    The more immediate problem was that she couldn’t tell him who she was going out with tonight, because her father would be absolutely giddy with excitement if he discovered she had a date with Cade Reynolds. He’d be envisioning wedding bells and a passel of football-playing grandkids in two seconds flat.
    She swallowed her remorse and lied through her teeth. “It’s not a date date, just a get-together with some friends, Dad.”
    A flicker of disappointment crossed her father’s face, and for the life of her, she wasn’t sure if it was because he was sorry she wasn’t going on a real date or because he knew she was lying to him. He always could see right through her.
    Fearing he’d call her on it, she rushed ahead. “There’s plenty of the stroganoff we had last night still left in the fridge.