by Jody Holford
He just wasn’t sure he trusted her to stand by her belief that she could do the same.
…
Later that night, after Addie fell asleep, Sawyer slipped from her bed and went into the living room with an icy compress. It felt like heaven on his knee after the strain he’d put it through. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back and thought about the broadcasting offer, about what would happen if he got traded, and what Addie would think about either of those things.
When he opened his eyes, his stomach seized. Addie leaned against the doorjamb between the living room and hallway, staring at him. Damn. He’d been very careful not to mention his knee, but there was no way out of it. He couldn’t find his words and he could see, even in the semi-dark, the hurt in her eyes that he’d kept her on the outside. But being Addison, she didn’t let that stop her from stepping up. Because she was all about whatever other people needed regardless of what it meant for her.
She walked over, curled into his side, situating his arm over her shoulder, and snuggled in. She didn’t say a word, didn’t ask him questions, didn’t judge him. She just lay there, against him, accepting him for everything he was even though he probably didn’t deserve it.
Chapter Nineteen
Addison stared out at the early-morning Nashville traffic from the quiet of her living room, the coffee cup warming her hands but not the rest of her. She tried to put the conversation with Mr. Dawson out of her head. They’d “gone in another direction” for their board. Someone who fit the already established group of members. Someone other than Addie.
He didn’t share that information until after he asked about Sawyer’s ability to participate in fund-raising events, but Addie made it clear they weren’t a package deal. At least not in that respect.
“What about other respects?” she asked herself quietly. When she’d seen him with an ice pack on his knee, she knew he’d been holding back. He didn’t trust her, and though part of her could understand, most of her just felt hurt at the realization.
Taking a deep breath, she thought of calling Sawyer but didn’t want to interrupt him. They had another away game and this one really mattered. Whoever won tonight would take the series. She thought again about his knee and knew she couldn’t ask Doc about it. What she’d seen had been in their private time.
But this morning, before he left, he’d seemed distant and somewhat removed. Did he expect her to let him down?
When her phone buzzed with a text saying her parents were in a cab on the way over, she pulled herself out of the patio chair and went back inside, heading to the kitchen.
By the time she’d started pancakes and bacon, her parents arrived, looking happy and well rested. Her mom gave her an extra long hug, like she had a sixth sense about Addie’s moods.
“You okay, sweetheart?”
Addie held tighter as her dad walked past them into the kitchen. “I’m good. Just got some lousy news and I didn’t realize how much I missed you guys. Now that you’re here, I wish it was for more than the weekend.”
Pulling out of the embrace, her mom put both hands on Addie’s cheeks. “We’ll come again for Thanksgiving if you’d like. Then you can come to us for Christmas. Does that work?”
Pulling in a quick breath, Addison willed herself to breathe out the negative thoughts. She looped her arm through her mom’s and they went to the kitchen with her dad. “That sounds perfect.”
“And, of course, Sawyer is welcome to join us. I like him, honey.”
Her stomach did that rolling adrenaline thing like when she went over a bump too quick in the car. Yeah. She liked him too. A dangerous amount for how long they’d been together.
“Me too, but we’re still new, Mom.”
“This smells delicious,” her dad said, easily taking over the cooking.
“I can finish, Dad.”
He winked at her. “Set the table. I’ve got this.”
They fell into an age-old routine, the three of them, getting the food to the table and settling around it.
“Tell us about the bad news, Addison,” her father said, taking a bite of pancake.
She told them about the MS Society, the board, and even about roping Sawyer into being auctioned off.
Her dad laughed, setting his fork down. “Wow. That’s a good man, honey. Letting you do something so wild before he even knew you.”
Addie’s stomach twisted uncomfortably. They’d settled the score. “He is a good man. And I did pay him back for his time by helping him out.”
“You still owe him,” her mom said with a mischievous smile before taking a sip of the tea she’d made.
Hmm. She might not owe him, since they’d called it even, but maybe it was time to up her payback game, give him more reasons to have a little faith in her and them. Ideas swirled until her dad mentioned the MS Society again.
“Are there other things you could take part in? You’ve focused your attention in this area for so long. Surely, there must be other things you feel passionate about.”
Her breath caught in her throat, and she split a glance between her dad and her mom. Trying to cover her surprise, she shrugged. “I’d say this is a pretty important cause for our family.”
Addison’s mom set her tea down with a deliberateness that caught Addie’s attention. Her parents exchanged a look, and she caught the barely there nod her dad gave her mom.
When her mom reached out her hand to cover Addie’s, she knew whatever she was about to say had been a long time coming. “Addison, sometimes your dad and I feel like you’re carrying an unnecessary weight.”
She scrunched her brows. “What? What do you mean?”
“You don’t have MS, baby. And I’m living a happy, wonderful life that I couldn’t be more grateful for. Since you were a little girl you’ve taken on this fight, and we’re so incredibly proud of you. But you’ve got a sort of…tunnel vision where this disease is concerned.”
Addie pulled her hand back and picked up her fork and knife. “It’s always been a part of our life. I want to make sure people are doing everything they can to raise awareness and money for it. There is still so much more that can be done. You know that.”
“I do. We do. But would you feel this invested if I didn’t have it?”
Addie unintentionally slammed her fork down. “How can I possibly know that? This has always been our life.”
“We’re not trying to upset you, Addison. And again, we couldn’t be prouder of you, but your mother and I feel like you’ve put an unnecessarily heavy burden on your shoulders. If your heart is truly in it, that’s wonderful. We just don’t like the idea that you’re carrying some sort of misguided or misplaced guilt.”
Tears burned her eyes, so she kept them on her plate. “I hate knowing you’re suffering. And that I can’t do anything about it.”
She heard her mom’s chair shift, and then she was in the chair beside her, pulling her into her arms, one hand on her head, like when she was a little girl.
“It is not your responsibility, Addison. Do you truly want to be on this board?”
Sniffling, Addie considered the question. “No. But I truly want to make a difference.”
“You do and you have, Addie. Always. You’re an incredible woman. But maybe it’s time to start finding your own passions without thinking it’ll somehow negatively affect your mother’s health.”
She hadn’t even realized the truth in what they said. While she was working through the paperwork for the wellness interviews, she’d thought of several ways to connect the Slammers to the community. When she’d first come to Nashville, she and Isla had formed a connection with the local school board, and they were working on creating a mentoring program with the players and students.
There was more she wanted to do there. She thought of Alyssa and how gracious she’d been in her offer to participate in something and the limits her own career had imposed on her. What if they started something together? Something that wasn’t just about one specific thing
but more about creating an overall awareness for the way people could positively impact other people’s lives…
“I can actually hear the gears turning in your head,” her mom said, pressing her head closer to Addie’s, making her laugh.
“I don’t want to abandon the work I’ve put into raising awareness and money for multiple sclerosis.” She shifted out of her mom’s hold and returned to her food.
“We aren’t saying you have to,” her dad said. “Just know that whatever you do or don’t do doesn’t directly impact your mother. No one could ask for a more compassionate, proactive, and thoughtful daughter. But again, Addie, it doesn’t have to be your fight. Your mom won’t suffer if you don’t get on some board of directors.”
It was interesting, and somewhat freeing, to look at it from that perspective. Since she was twelve, she’d thought it was her job to show that she could do something. Her parents had never put that on her. She’d done it to herself and counted every step back as a failure. As a direct link to letting her mother down.
“Now. If you really want to do something for me, how about giving me more than a maybe for Christmas,” her mother said, her grin sparkling all the way to her eyes. She returned to her seat and her tea.
“I can give you a yes for me. Just me. For now.”
She rolled her eyes when her parents started talking about how to get Sawyer on board. She tried not to get excited at the idea that he’d want to spend the holidays with her family. Focus on the smaller picture.
While her parents started clearing the table, Addie pulled her phone out and texted Sawyer.
Want to come celebrate your big win at my place tomorrow night? I have a surprise.
She didn’t actually have everything worked out, but she’d have time, even with work and her to-do list, to get it done. His response didn’t take long.
I’m intrigued. Hopefully you’re right about the win. Should I bring anything?
Her heart beat rapidly, little flutters ricocheting in her chest.
Just you and the intention of staying the night.
Those three little dots that made everyone wonder what was coming appeared. Her breath snagged while she waited. What was he typing? Had she imagined his reserved mood this morning?
Finally, his words appeared.
Already the best surprise ever.
That was the hope. That it would be as memorable and meaningful for him as it would be for her. That she could show him through actions, even if she wasn’t ready to say the words, that he could trust her, count on her, believe in her. Addie had always been proud of her ability to reach her goals. But she’d never felt for any man what she already did for Sawyer. She was determined to pull the jaded blinders from his gaze and show him that not everyone would let him down.
That she could be the one to give him reason to trust in his heart again.
Chapter Twenty
It was late the next day. They’d arrived home early that morning. Sawyer was bagged and they’d lost. The Whalers took the series, and even though it was close, a loss was a loss. With a normal defeat, they could shake things off as part of the game. This one felt different. Harder.
A bunch of the guys had gone for beers after, but Sawyer spent most of the time wanting to text or phone Addison. He’d never been one to live in the past but shaking off a loss of this magnitude was harder to do while the team was commiserating. Still, he was there with the guys. For the guys.
That didn’t stop him from wanting to put the game behind him and ignore the guilt he’d felt over being relieved that his knee would get a much needed break. He had some serious decisions to make but not tonight. Tonight, for the rest of it, was all about him and Addison.
Sawyer felt a tad weird about the clutch of flowers he held, but if ever there was a woman who made him want to explore the romantic part of himself, it was this one.
He knocked on the door and tried to chill the restless energy bouncing around inside his body. It was nearly impossible, though. He’d stayed over before. They’d been together but there was something about the way he’d left the other day that had shaken them both. There’d been a wall between them and he hated it.
He knocked again, frowning. Checking his watch, he knew he wasn’t early. In fact, he was worried he’d been running behind.
The door opened and though she looked gorgeous, as always, he was surprised to see her hair was tucked up on top of her head, she wore a thick white robe, and looked like she’d been crying.
“What’s wrong? You okay?” He stepped in, on edge at the thought of something upsetting her.
“Come in. I’m so sorry.” She waved her hand and moved so he could come in.
Worry clouded his judgment, making his movements clipped. The scent of cinnamon and…burning caught his attention, but he focused on Addie. He dropped the flowers on the table by the door and gripped her arms, pulling her up to her toes as he leaned down so they were almost nose to nose.
“Sorry for what? What’s wrong, babe?”
She gripped the front of his T-shirt in her fists. “I wanted tonight to be perfect. I wanted to spoil you and I’ve messed everything up and now I’m not even ready.”
Relief washed through him. He tried to bite back his grin because she was upset, but it was hard. He had to clear his throat to swallow the laugh. Lowering her to flat feet, he soothed his hands up and down her soft, fluffy robe. “What are you talking about?”
Addison stepped back, waving a hand up and down in front of her body. “I planned on answering the door wearing something extremely sexy that I bought this afternoon. But by the time I talked to your grandmother, found out your favorites, made arrangements, went shopping, and then got home, it was already so late. Then I got caught up with paperwork and research and everything fell apart.” She turned and continued her rant—which was escalating in pitch—as she walked toward the living room. “I thought, oh, that’s okay. Still plenty of time, right? How hard can it be to make cookies? It’s not like I’ve never made cookies.”
She spun around once they were in the living room, facing him with a look that dared him to argue with her. Again, he bit back his smile. She was so freaking adorable, strands of her hair coming loose from the bun on top of her head, her cheeks flushed with emotion, her robe slipping further apart at the lapels.
“I mean, I’ve never made snickerdoodles, but they’re cookies. How hard can that be? I ordered dinner so at least I didn’t screw that up, but by the time I burned the cookies and got my bedroom ready for the surprise, it was late and I was just about to change into something…different when you showed up. And now you’re here.”
Like it took every ounce of energy she possessed to tell him all that, she collapsed onto the chair tucked in the corner by the patio. Sawyer looked around, noted the candles burning, the fresh flowers in vases. The stars twinkled in the dark sky behind her, through the glass doors. Sawyer walked over to her, slowly until he was standing right in front of her. She tipped her head back as he shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it on the couch. As he lowered himself to the coffee table in front of her, she watched him closely, lowering her chin as they came eye to eye.
Putting his hands over her thighs, easy to feel beneath the fabric, he squeezed. “I don’t know where to start. Maybe here.” He leaned in, pressed his lips to hers in a gentle kiss. “Hi.”
She gave a somewhat watery laugh. “Hi.”
“You called my grandma?”
She nodded, and his rib cage grew tight. “I wanted to know what your favorite foods were.”
He nodded. His throat felt thick as he replied, “She’d know.” He’d wondered, when Grams called him after the game, why her voice had an extra little bounce in it. Now he knew.
“I’m sorry I burned the cookies.” She exhaled a long breath and her shoulders sagged. “And I’m so sorry about the game.”
The game? All he could think about was her. “Thanks,” he said gruffly, trying to gather his words. Sawyer
couldn’t stop looking at her; she completely amazed him. “They could be blacker than coal and I’d eat them just because you took the trouble to make them for me. I can’t believe you called Grams. That in itself… Addie, you can’t know how sweet that is. How much that means to me.”
She put her hands on his shoulders and leaned forward. “You mean something to me, and I had the perfect night planned to show you that. I wanted to do nice things for you just for the pleasure of it. I know you have a hard time believing in people, and I just wanted to show you that there are people in your life who find happiness in making you happy.”
It was a damn good thing he was already sitting. Sawyer cupped her cheeks, forcing himself to keep his hold light. The way he felt, he wanted to crush her to him and never let go. Pressing his forehead to hers, he closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breath. Let it out. Then opened his eyes into hers and fell a little further.
“You make me believe in things I never planned to. Never even wanted to.”
This brought out her smile, and it was like winning the series—it lit him up inside, hard and fast.
“Well, other than me not being ready, I guess the whole night isn’t a bust.”
He leaned back, eyed her robe. “What’s under there?”
A light flush grazed the apples of her cheeks and her eyes went to his chest. “I wasn’t ready yet so just my bra and underwear. Guess I’m not exactly a master of seduction.”
She had no idea how wrong she was.
Slowly, he moved his hands and used two fingers to tug the belt of the rope. Addie sucked in a sharp breath when he pulled it from the loops and tossed it on the floor. Bringing his hands to the center of her robe, he parted it, baring her shoulders, which were covered only by thin pink straps. She likely thought he’d just divest her of her clothing as quickly as possible but with Addison, Sawyer wanted to draw every second out so it felt like a hundred. With just her graceful shoulders and collarbone on display, he leaned in, pressed his lips there.